


When The Wolves Come Out

by theflowerthefeast



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Drug Abuse, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Tapes, Slow Build, University Students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:30:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflowerthefeast/pseuds/theflowerthefeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles has been transferred to a different university in a housing mix-up, and finds that he doesn't really click with anyone. He quickly discovers that flirting with people is an easy way to endear them to him, but things take a turn for the worse when he ends up sleeping with and hurting a girl who is friends with Nick Grimshaw, Louis Tomlinson's on-off boyfriend. </p><p>Louis has to decide where his loyalties lie, whether he wants to look out for the new boy or simply stick to what he's used to, the life he knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to start off by stating that the way Nick, Eleanor, and Liam are portrayed in this story is a false representation of them as people, and I am using their names only because they were easy inspirations for the characters. 
> 
> Also, this story is going to get quite dark in places, but there will always be a sufficient warning at the beginning of any relevant chapters.

_What of the dollar you murdered for, is that the one -_

Louis muffled a groan into his pillow as the familiar tone was cut off from Nick's phone on the bedside table. Every single morning that rotten alarm woke Louis up without fail, no matter how quickly Nick managed to silence it.

 _5am._ No one should ever be awake of their own accord at this hour, especially not on a Monday morning after a long weekend made up of late nights and alcohol consumption. Before Louis met Nick, he had been blissfully unaware that this was an actual time of the day but somehow it had become an hour that Louis was regularly awake for thanks to Nick's oh so important radio hosting job.

Noticing Louis was awake, Nick patted Louis on the shoulder apologetically, then began moving around to get out of bed and start his day. Louis cracked an eye open against his pillow so he could watch Nick shuffle off into the en suite in the dim light of the bedroom, scratching lazily at his lower back.

As the bathroom door clicked shut, and a strip of light appeared underneath the door, Louis stretched against the duvet, starfishing his limbs out across the now empty bed. An involuntary moan escaped his lips before he relaxed his body into the bed again with a sigh, rubbing at his eyes with the back of a hand.

Louis heard Nick turn the shower on and he propped himself up in bed, flicking on the bedside lamp before quickly clutching the duvet to his bare chest. Nick's bedroom was always stupidly cold at this time, as if the flat's central heating system couldn't be bothered starting its day yet either. Louis could definitely relate, but he still eyed the room at large with disgust as he shivered in the large bed.

He reached for his phone after a few minutes, the time now reading  _5:13am._ He'd received a few messages in the night but nothing that caught his attention so he placed his phone back on the bedside table, stifling a yawn in the back of his hand just as the bathroom door clicked open again.

Nick walked back into the room exaggeratedly quietly before noticing that Louis was sitting bolt upright in bed and wide awake. He smiled sheepishly, muttering an apology. Louis held his arms out to Nick, making grabby hands, and Nick hoisted his towel a little higher around his hips as he moved to sit on the bed next to Louis.

Before Nick had even fully sat down, Louis’ fingers were toying with the edge of Nick’s towel, slipping underneath to run his fingers along Nick’s damp bare thighs but Nick slapped at Louis’ hands, pushing him away.

“None of that this morning, please, I’m running late as it is,” he reprimanded, leaning in to drop a kiss on the top of Louis’ head.

Louis groaned exaggeratedly, drawing the sound out long and loud, causing Nick to slap a hand over his mouth. Louis licked his palm, just to be a nuisance, and to try and make Nick gasp in outrage. Which he did, whipping his hand away and neatly sidestepped Louis’ wriggling fingers.

“I’m going to go and take a shower, then,” Louis grumbled, swinging his legs out of bed and following Nick over to the chest of drawers, where he draped himself heavily against Nick’s back, pressing open mouthed, wet kisses to the back of Nick’s neck. “Have a good show, I’ll be listening,” he said, playing up the doting boyfriend role. He nipped at Nick’s earlobe, and trailed his fingers down Nick’s torso, managing to dip his fingers back under the towel briefly before Nick eventually shook him off.

“Behave,” Nick said authoritatively, spinning round to face Louis and placing his hands on Louis’ hips, effectively holding him off. “You got any requests for the show?”

“I’ll let you know,” Louis said, mind already whirring through the various options.

“Behave,” Nick repeated firmly, pressing a quick kiss to Louis’ cheek before letting him go and turning back to the chest of drawers to pick out an outfit.

“Wear the checked shirt,” Louis said over his shoulder as he wandered into the bathroom, not bothering to wait around to check if Nick had listened; he knew he’d get his way.

Louis showered at a leisurely place, letting the water wash over his body and coax him further into full consciousness, not bothering with a towel as he walked back into the bedroom. He listened out for their other flatmate, Liam, as he was well aware that Liam wouldn’t approve of Louis’ nudity, having been witness to his naked body one too many times in the past when Louis had first moved in, continuously catching both of them unaware and causing Liam to back out of the room with his hand clamped firmly over his eyes whenever it happened. Louis couldn’t hear any signs of life, though, so he took the risk and made his way into the kitchen to get himself a cup of tea, leaning casually against the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil, and stealing a couple of biscuits to take back to bed with him.

He snuggled back into bed, cocooning himself in the duvet, and opened the app for Nick’s radio show, taking a long sip of his tea as he waited for it to load.

Louis had settled into a bit of a routine over the past few months, and while he didn’t think he’d ever be fully okay with waking up this early - it went against everything he believed in - he was growing pretty content with the way his days began now. Some days he was especially lucky and managed to fall back asleep for a few hours after Nick left the flat but on the days he couldn’t, it was always a nice slow lazy beginning to his day; he always had the hours between five and eight in the morning all to himself, no need to worry about anything, no need to entertain anyone but himself, no need to be anywhere else, simply laying in bed and listening to Nick’s voice and music choices on the radio. He was right where he needed to be, and relatively cosy once the flat’s central heating eventually kicked in sometime between six and seven. He couldn’t complain.

Louis texted Nick halfway through the show, telling him he was about to get out of bed and start getting himself ready to start his day, and could he _please_ play Years  & Years new song? When the song started playing, Louis sent a quick _thank you!_ followed by a string of kissing emojis before getting out of bed and sifting through his drawer in the chest of drawers to find himself something to wear. He eventually gave up on finding something of his own to wear, and instead settled on his favourite jumper of Nick’s, which had sort of become Louis’ as well simply because he loved it so much. It was just a basic grey jumper and it was a little too big on Louis, but Louis was very fond of it, though he’d never admit it to Nick.

Louis loved the feeling of wearing Nick’s clothes, because it was almost as though he was showing the people around him that he was worthy of someone else’s attention - specifically that of another man - and that he was close enough to that someone else that he could share clothes with them, albeit in a slightly strange circumstance.

Louis knew, realistically, that people probably didn’t really take that away from seeing him in Nick’s clothes, though, as no one really understood Louis and Nick’s strange relationship in the first place. The pair of them had dated very briefly when Louis had first moved to Manchester. They’d met in a club and hit it off straight away, a one night stand that somehow merged into a more regular arrangement, which then sneakily transformed into a full blown relationship without either of them really realising it. The relationship itself hadn’t lasted very long at all, as neither of them really wanted to be exclusive in the long run, but somehow they continued to fall into bed together every now and again, their connection growing stronger still to the point where Louis moved in with Nick when he needed somewhere to stay, even though Nick only lived in a two bedroom apartment and the other bedroom was already spoken for.

Most people assumed that they were still a couple, refrained from hitting on either of them on nights out because they didn’t want to break up the relationship, while others, like most of Louis’ friends, just found their entire situation a little bewildering. But Louis liked what they had going on, they were very comfortable with the way they were, kind of in a semi-relationship; there to fall back on when either of them needed it, while also leaving them both open to fall into a proper relationship with someone else if the mood ever struck, or if the right person were to come along.

Regardless of their confusing situation, it still meant a lot to Louis that he was able to have that sort of connection with someone and that he was able to show it off so openly to the world, after so many years of hiding his relationships and such a large part of himself away.

So, wearing Nick’s clothes automatically put Louis in a better mood as he left the flat and began his journey to the university. His mood only improved when he managed to get a seat all to himself on the bus. This meant he was able to put his earphones in, and daydream uninterrupted, absent-mindedly running through his class’ newest piece of work as he watched the streets of Manchester roll by outside.

Louis was studying drama at Manchester University, in the hopes of becoming a drama teacher himself one day. He had originally wanted to take drama because he had thought he wanted to become an actor, but as the course progressed he realised what he actually wanted to do was to be able to pass on everything he was learning to other people, and to be able to inspire them the way his teachers had done for him.

At secondary school, drama had always been Louis’ favourite subject. He was constantly getting compliments on his acting skills, all of his teachers marvelling at how easily he could take on any sort of character at the drop of a hat, but really Louis had a lot of real-life experience in acting during that time. He had battled a lot with his sexuality back then; he couldn’t face the idea of anyone knowing the truth about him, couldn’t even bring himself to tell his closest friends, especially when he couldn’t come to terms with the truth about himself, and he was determined to simply hide the gay side of himself away. As a result of that, he always felt like he was acting in a permanent role whenever he was in school: the straight Louis role.

He’d gotten very good at pretending that he was interested in the girls in his classes, was always very touchy-feely with them, and made sure to never deny any rumours that circulated the school about his involvement with anyone of the opposite sex. He actually managed to get himself a bit of a reputation for being a ladies’ man, which to anyone else might have been a negative thing, a bit of an insult, but in his head it was much better than people finding out the truth. That the definition of a ladies’ man was pretty much antonymous to who Louis was.

Acting had then transformed into Louis’ form of escape, because it was such a great way for him to literally get out of his own head for a while and disappear into someone else’s, even if only for just an hour or two. He would enter the drama rooms at school and immediately begin to feel better, he could completely clear his mind of all his stresses and worries, and just put all of his focus into becoming whichever character was asked of him that day. By the time he left the lesson, he would feel as though a weight had been lifted momentarily off his shoulders and he’d feel free.

It was this sense of freedom that made Louis originally think he wanted to pursue a career in acting in the future, the idea that he would actually be getting paid to escape his real life for long periods of time, and to be able to feel that amazing while doing it, was far too appealing for sixteen year old Louis. He continued with this mindset all through sixth form, fully focused on becoming an actor of some sort. However, when he started the drama course at university, he found himself surrounded by people from all walks of life, some who had experienced a much more difficult life than Louis’, who were taking the drama course for the exact same reason Louis had taken it. To escape. Louis made some very supportive friends who all accepted him without thinking twice when he came out to them in a highly emotional conversation after a drunken night out their second week of term, and he began to feel more and more comfortable in his own skin.

So, a few months into his new life at university, and Louis’ entire future career plan had changed in his head. He was now working extra hard towards his goal of becoming a drama teacher, more focused on his studies than anyone would have expected him to be. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to work hard to get it.

Louis pulled himself out of his thoughts in time to press the bell for his stop, shouldering his bag and getting to his feet just as his phone began vibrating in his back pocket. He jumped embarrassingly and then glanced around furtively, making sure no one had noticed. Satisfied that everyone seemed to be firmly wrapped up in their own lives, Louis scurried off the bus, sliding his phone out of his pocket as he went. The caller ID flashing up on the screen read _Niall Horan_. He hoisted his bag more comfortably onto his shoulder and answered the call.

“Morning, Nialler!” Louis chirped, starting to walk up the street.

“Good morning, Louis,” came Niall’s reply, his Irish accent always somehow sounding much pronounced over the phone than it did in person. “Just checking where abouts you are.”

This was a bit of a tradition that had developed over Louis’ time as a uni student as well. Every Monday morning Louis would meet Niall outside Starbucks, and whoever was the last to arrive would be in charge of buying them both something heavily caffeinated, and then they’d make their way back to the university together. Louis was very grateful for the fact that his uni schedule meant he basically had a long weekend every weekend with Friday, Saturday, and Sunday all free for him to do with as he pleased, but the late nights inevitably took their toll and he was always even more grateful for the sweet hit of caffeine on a Monday morning. Louis liked to stick to his routines, even if this particular one did set him back a few pounds on quite a regular basis considering he wasn’t the best at time keeping.

“Just got off the bus and walking now, a couple of minutes away. I can practically see the line for Starbucks already,” Louis quipped, although in actual fact, he could just about make out the sign for the Holiday Inn in the distance, and that was right across the road from Starbucks, so he wasn’t far off.

“Oh, man! I’m still on the bus,” Niall groaned exasperatedly, prompting a smile onto Louis’ face. “I missed the first one by a millisecond, think you were probably on that one actually.” After a slight pause, Niall’s voice came through the phone again, dejectedly. “So I guess that means I’m paying today.”

“Aw, there’s a good lad,” Louis cooed, refusing to let what was sure to be Niall’s puppy dog eyes influence him over the phone. “I’ll see you in a minute, then.”

Louis leaned on the wall outside Starbucks and scrolled through his phone lazily as he waited for Niall to arrive. He caught sight of him when he was still halfway down the street, his blond hair shining in the early morning sunshine, and Louis straightened himself up so he could pull him into a one-armed hug when he got close enough. Niall began apologising profusely in his ear and Louis shook him off.

“What are you saying sorry for? I get a free drink now,” Louis grinned. “Hop to it.”

Louis left Starbucks a few minutes later happily clutching a grande Caffe Mocha, which he took a big gulp of as soon as he was outside, humming appreciatively. Somehow, his Monday morning coffee always tasted so much better when he hadn’t paid for it himself. It was a pretty rare treat for Louis to get a free coffee so he made the most of it, nursing the drink for as long as he could.

Louis’ Mondays at uni were actually pretty easy, probably Louis’ favourite day of lessons in general because Mondays were always dedicated exclusively to actual performance practices, instead of lectures or theory work, and although Louis didn’t really feel the need to escape his own thoughts any more, he still loved being able to transform himself into somebody else on a regular basis. Another plus was that Niall was always a part of the lessons with him on a Monday; he was studying Music, but a large part of his course meant he was required to help out with the majority of the drama productions, so it was good for Louis to have his closest friend with him. They always vibed off each other really well, and Niall helped to give Louis that little bit of extra confidence when he was performing.

Niall was actually the first person Louis came out to in university. He’d already finally plucked up the courage to tell his mum during the summer holidays between sixth form and university, and he was overwhelmed with her positive response, slightly hating himself for letting himself think for so long that she wouldn’t take it well. So when Louis ended up in the pub with Niall after their first week at uni, Louis wasn’t really nervous at all about telling Niall as well. They had a few pints and got to talking about their lives, and it was one of the first things Louis offered up about himself, Niall accepting it without question and moving easily onto another topic of conversation. As simple as that, but Louis would forever be grateful for how Niall had reacted, and for the way Niall continued to defend Louis against anyone who had a bad word to say about him after that. Niall was a very supportive and loyal friend, and Louis needed people like that in his life.

Louis also needed people in his life who would be willing to provide him with free sweets of a Monday morning, so it was very lucky that when Louis walked into his drama classroom that morning, he was greeted with the sight of a large box of Patisserie Valerie cupcakes sat on an empty desk at the front of the room. This wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence; people were always bringing in sweets and cakes on a whim, just because, but it was a bit of a luxury to have such expensive cupcakes. Louis didn’t even want to work out how much these must have cost, only dwelling on it enough to realise that it would have been way out of his own personal budget. He selected a cupcake which was iced with a swirly chocolate fondant and bit into it as he went to take a seat, Niall following behind with a cupcake of his own.

“Oh,” Louis moaned around the cupcake, “God, this is so good. I could get used to this.”

Niall laughed, perching up on the edge of Louis’ desk. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever tried anything from this place before. It’s a little bit upmarket for me. Might have to start now, though.”

Louis polished off his cupcake just in time for the lesson to begin, Niall joining their professor at the front of the class as he began to talk through the plan of the day.

The rest of the day passed quickly for Louis, the class caught up in a series of various and exceedingly more ridiculous improv prompts which Louis had great fun with, despite not being the biggest fan of improv normally, and before he realised it, it was time to pack up his things and head back home.

Wondering where Niall had gone off to, Louis scanned the faces around him and spotted him stood at the front of the room looking seemingly engrossed in conversation with someone that Louis hadn’t seen before. Louis couldn’t see much of the other lad except for the back of his head, long dark curls brushing down past his shoulders. He was tall, too; Niall was having to look up to make eye contact with him. Louis waved a hand to grab Niall’s attention and motioned that he was leaving. Niall gave him a thumbs-up, causing the guy he was talking to to turn around and see what he was looking at. Louis made brief eye contact with him, ducking his head slightly in acknowledgement as he moved to leave the room, grabbing one of the last remaining cupcakes on his way out.

He had thought that bringing a cupcake back to the flat for Nick would have been a surprise for him, so the reaction he got - while positive - wasn’t really what he had been expecting.

Nick was lying on the sofa when Louis walked in, wearing the plaid shirt that Louis had asked him to wear that morning - of course, Louis thought smugly - cradling a cup of tea in his hands, and The Simpsons was playing on the television. Louis walked over to him, hiding the cupcake behind his back, and bent over to drop a cheesy kiss to his lips.

“Hey, love,” Louis said when they broke apart. “Had a good day?

“Very good day, yeah. How was yours, babe?” Nick replied, craning his head back to look up at Louis.

“It was good. I got you something, actually,” Louis said, dumping his bag on the floor, making sure to keep the cupcake concealed from Nick’s view. He took Nick’s cup of tea out of his hands and put it down on the coffee table. “Close your eyes.”

“Ooh, I love a surprise! Give it to me, baby,” Nick smirked.

“It’s not something dirty, we don’t always have to resort to innuendo, Nicholas,” Louis said, trying to sound stern as he moved to stand in front of Nick.

“It’s always something dirty with you, dear,” Nick replied, smirk still firmly on his face.

Louis tutted as he held out Nick’s hand, palm facing up, and placed the cupcake in it before flopping down on the sofa next to Nick’s feet. “Go on, open,” Louis encouraged when Nick’s eyes remained shut.

Nick opened his eyes and gasped delightedly when he saw what he was holding, “Oh, you star! You picked them up for me already?”  

Louis looked back at Nick in confusion. “Picked - what?”

“The cupcakes from Patisserie Valerie. You already got them?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Nick,” Louis said slowly.

Nick frowned, looking back at the cupcake in his hand. “Well, where did you get this from?”

“Uni. Someone brought a whole box of these in for everyone. I thought you might like one as well.”

“Oh,” Nick said, the confusion on his face clearing. “Oh, fair enough. That’s weird, though. Bit of a coincidence.”

“What’s a coincidence?” Louis asked, nudging Nick’s feet up into his lap so he could sit more comfortably.

“I’ve ordered a load of cupcakes from that place for this work party we’ve got this weekend. I assumed Liam had already told you and you’d gone to pick them up for me,” Nick explained. “Well, I’m disappointed now,” he pouted.

“Hey,” Louis whined. “You know how I can make it up to you?”

“By picking the cupcakes up for me before the end of this week?” Nick asked, biting into the cupcake Louis had given him.

Louis glared at him. “That too, I guess, but I did have some more creative ideas.” Louis shifted their bodies so he could straddle Nick’s thighs.

“Tell me more,” Nick said, a large hand coming to rest on Louis’ hip, steadying him.

“How about I just show you instead,” Louis flipped open the button on Nick’s jeans, meeting Nick’s eyes mischievously. “Are you just going to carry on eating your cupcake?”

Nick nodded, looking into Louis' eyes as his tongue came out of his mouth to lick at the icing, smirking up at Louis who rolled his eyes in response, unzipping Nick’s jeans and pressing in closer to him.


	2. Chapter 2

“Harry! Are you nearly finished in there?” Ed called from the other side of the door, and Harry cursed under his breath as the sudden noise scared him and made his hand jolt, causing him to smear excess icing down the side of the cupcake he was currently working on.

“Yep,” he called back, voice tight, “ _nearly_ finished.” He scraped the spilled icing up with the edge of the piping bag, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.

The door to the back room opened and Ed slipped in, walking round the table to get a look at Harry’s handiwork.

“These look great, babe,” he commented, placing a hand on the back of Harry’s neck gently to soften his next words. “Kind of need you to speed things up a little, though.”

Harry sighed. “I’ve told you before, I can do them quickly or I can do them well. You can’t rush art.”

“Then you should have started earlier,” Ed said, dropping a kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “Look, you know I hate taking on the big boss role, but this order needs to be completed and ready to be picked up for 5 o’clock. Can you do that or do I need to call one of the others in here to help you?”

Harry glanced up at the clock before replying. “I’ll get it done, I’ve only got a few more to do.” He sighed. “Sorry, my head’s been a bit all over the place lately with the move and everything. Well, you know.”

He slid his newly finished cupcake to the side and reached for the next one to be decorated.

“Hey, you don’t have to apologise. I’m not going to dock your wages if these are a few minutes late, okay?” Ed reassured Harry. “I’ll leave you to it now. Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine, just getting settled and stuff. I shouldn’t be letting it affect my work though, I’ll do better, I promise.”

“You’re a good lad, Harry. Give me a shout when these are finished, yeah?” Ed smiled thankfully and slipped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Harry let out a long exhale into the renewed quiet of the room and set to work on icing the next cake.

Harry had had a bit of a hectic time lately by all accounts. Until two weeks ago Harry had been spending every night sleeping on Ed’s sofa, his belongings packed up in boxes around him. There had been a mix up with his uni house which, long story short, meant he had nowhere to go, so luckily his boss had offered to let him stay as long as he needed until he could get himself sorted out.

He’d received a call through a few weeks ago letting him know that a room had been freed up on a campus near Manchester university so Harry gratefully accepted it without thinking twice, mainly just thankful that he’d be able to get of Ed’s hair at last and stop living literally underneath his boss’ feet.

But there was one small problem that Harry hadn’t accounted, and that was the fact that the room he’d moved into was situated close to the Manchester campus, where previously he had been comfortably attending the campus in Crewe.

Harry weighed up his pros and cons, talking to various officials at both universities until they managed to come to some sort of compromise. Harry was unwilling to leave the room he’d been given after finally getting himself settled over the weekend, and finally being able to give Ed his living room back, and the commute to Crewe everyday would be a bit too much for him to handle, so he decided to remain on at the Manchester University campus. There was just one major problem, though, that problem being that the specific course Harry had been taking at the Crewe campus - which was drama and creative writing - wasn’t available at the Manchester campus.

So, for the first few days at Manchester uni Harry was placed into a creative writing course, but he really had wanted to pursue acting more than writing so after another flip around and lots of paperwork, he ended up in another new course which focussed solely on drama and nothing else. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best Harry could get without uprooting all of his belongings again and attempting to find somewhere else to live.

Basically, there had been a lot of upheaval in Harry’s life and he couldn’t wait for Saturday night to roll around so he could just fall into bed and sleep.

Right now, though, Harry needed to focus on the task at hand, which was icing a set of 25 cupcakes for some sort of party that had been booked in at the start of the week to be picked up later that day, in 20 minutes to be precise. A few of his colleagues grumbled whenever they were put on decorating duty, but Harry really didn’t mind this part of the job at all. In fact, he found decorating the cakes very therapeutic, he imagined that it was the same sort of feeling his neighbour, Zayn, got from his own art work. Being able to focus on the intricate designs needed meant there wasn’t much room in his head left over for his other more trivial worries to surface.

Harry finally finished icing the last cupcake, adding a little flourish and putting an extra fancy swirl on the top just because he could. He sat back in his seat and surveyed his hard work with pride for a few seconds, another job well done.

He was about to start packing the cakes up when Ed’s voice called through the door, “Little help out on the counter, H?”

Harry quickly set the piping bag down by the sink, wiping his hands down on his apron, and entered the shop. First thing he saw was that a long queue had formed, and was steadily growing, while his colleague, Barbara, served customers alone.

“Thanks, babe,” Ed said, spotting Harry’s arrival. “The phone keeps ringing in the office, I think someone’s trying to make an order, I’ll try not to be gone too long.”

“No problem,” Harry assured Ed, who was looking a little frazzled. Ed was definitely very focussed on his job, taking his managerial role very seriously, to the point where he would let it overwhelm him if there wasn’t anyone else available to step in. So Harry was glad to be able to help out. He approached the counter with a charming smile, already welcoming the next customer to the bakery.

Harry was naturally a very charming person when it came to his customers, specifically the slightly more elderly customers; he didn’t have to try too hard to win them over at all. For some reason, though, his natural charisma hadn’t seemed to appeal to the people he attended uni with just yet. He had met two people who he would count as true friends since he’d moved into his new room, and was on basic nodding terms with a few others, but he hadn’t made any real close knit relationships with anyone. Harry was a very sociable person, and thrived off of other people’s company. He didn’t work so well on his own, with only his own company, so his lack of a social life was beginning to get to Harry a little. He loved engaging with the customers in the bakery, the conversations reassuring Harry that he wasn’t completely alone.

He was a huge fan of his job in general, really, all of the different aspects of it doing something to help build Harry back up when he was feeling down or insecure.

Harry got into a nice conversation with one of his regular women while he poured her a cup of coffee and packaged up a couple of almond croissants for her, wishing her a lovely rest of the day and smiling fondly after her as she took her sweet treats from him.

The next customers in line to approach the counter, two young men who looked way too cool to queue up with the elderly patrons, were definitely not regulars. They actually looked as though they had never set foot in the bakery in their life, although Harry felt as though he vaguely recognised the shorter of the two from somewhere. It was the taller lad who spoke, looking Harry in the eye, which Harry always appreciated in a customer.

“Hi, mate, we’re looking to pick up an order for Grimshaw?”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly, scanning the area around the till, looking for a receipt but coming up blank. “What was it you ordered, please?”

“A box of cupcakes, 25,” the man replied, sounding a little bored with the exchange but pleasant enough.

“Oh, those are for you, are they?” Harry said excitedly, just about refraining from clapping his hands together. “I’ve just this second finished decorating them actually! Do you mind holding on for a few minutes while I go and package them up?”

“No, that’s fine. No rush,” the man answered, smiling easily at Harry, the pair already stepping back away from the counter.

“Great, I won’t be long,” Harry assured them, as he headed through to the back room.

He stuck to his word and made quick work of packaging the cakes up neatly, placing the bakery’s sticker carefully on the top of the box and carrying them back out to the now slightly less crowded shop.

Harry scanned the room from behind the counter, and spotted the shorter lad over by the seating area, but the taller guy was nowhere to be seen.

“Order for Grimshaw!” Harry called out, and the shorter lad’s head popped up, smiling gratefully at Harry as he made his way over to the counter.

“Thank you very much, mate,” he said, reaching out for the box, and Harry jolted in recognition at the sound of his voice, the final puzzle piece of who this guy was and how Harry knew him falling quickly into place.

The lad cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck a bit uncomfortably, and Harry realised he had been staring.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry apologised quickly, and then figured he’d just go for it. “I think I might know you from somewhere, though?” he ventured.

“Oh, really?” The lad beamed. “How’s that, then?”

Harry couldn’t help himself from grinning right back, the boy’s smile was contagious.

“We’re on the same course at uni, actually,” Harry explained but the boy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Um… Drama?” Harry elaborated pointlessly and the other lad tilted his head to the side a little.

“Really? I don’t want to sound rude, mate, but I don’t think I recognise you,” he sounded genuinely sorry so Harry wasn’t offended.

“It’s okay, I’m kind of new, I guess. Only joined the course a couple of weeks ago,” Harry said, and then realised something. “Oh, and usually my hair’s down, it’s a lot longer than this,” he gestured to his head, his hair currently scraped back into its customary bun for work.

The lad’s eyes flicked up to Harry’s hair, but still didn’t show any sign of understanding, so Harry was just about to wave him off and try to forget the whole thing when finally the boy’s eyes lit up, recognition clear in his expression.

“Oh, I think I _do_ know you! Well, you know Niall Horan, don’t you?” he spoke excitedly, and just as Harry opened his mouth to reply, the boy gasped loudly, interrupting him. “Oh my god, you brought those cupcakes in as well, didn’t you?”

Harry laughed a little bashfully. He’d regretted taking those cupcakes into class almost the moment he’d placed them on the table, had felt too much like a little kid on his first day of school trying to make friends, even if that is technically what he had been trying to achieve.

“I did, yeah, guilty. And I do know Niall, yeah, he lives along the same hall as me on my campus,” Harry smiled, relieved that he hadn’t made himself look like a complete idiot. “I’m Harry, by the way,” he said, gesturing vaguely at his name badge before holding out his hand for the boy to shake. “Harry Styles.”

“Louis Tomlinson,” the boy - Louis - replied, taking hold of Harry’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you properly! Thank you so much for the cakes the other day, they were just what I needed. I know for sure that we’re going to enjoy these now,” he said, gesturing to the box in his hand.

“Ah, you’re very welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed them,” Harry answered, lighting up at the praise. “I hope these ones live up to your expectation, I have been working quite hard on them!”

“I’ll have to let you know my verdict on Monday, won’t I?” Louis smiled, looking into Harry’s eyes. Harry was shocked to find himself so easily drawn in to Louis’ gaze, his eyes were the perfect shade of blue, and they looked so open and earnest.

Their gaze was broken as Louis quickly glanced over his shoulder out of the window. Harry automatically followed his gaze and noticed Louis’ friend stood on the pavement outside, peering into the shop.

“Ah, shit, I’d better go,” Louis said, turning back to Harry. He held the box of cupcakes up a little higher. “Thanks again for these.”

“Not a problem, I really hope you like them. I’ll see you Monday!” Harry grinned and then with a quick wave Louis was gone, leaving Harry behind with a strangely warm feeling in his chest.

The last hour of Harry’s shift went smoothly, actually got pretty quiet towards the end, so Harry ended up spending most of his time cleaning up around the back room he’d been working in with the cupcakes instead of serving in the shop. He hung up his apron at the end of the day, the sweet smells of the bakery still clinging to his skin, and made his way home, with the satisfaction of a job well done in his mind.

The first thing Harry decided to do when he got back to his uni halls was to go and find Niall, who luckily was sat in the kitchen talking to a few other people Harry hadn’t been acquainted with before.

Niall caught sight of Harry lurking in the doorway after a few moments and jumped up to say hello, pulling him into a hug and inhaling the smell of Harry’s skin fresh from the bakery. “It’s not weird unless you make it weird,” Niall had assured Harry after the first time he’d done this, and Harry had grown used to it by now so he simply hugged Niall tightly back and allowed himself to be sniffed.

When they eventually broke apart, Harry decided to skip the subtlety and to just ask Niall outright about the boy from the bakery.

“So, how do you know Louis Grimshaw?”

While Harry had been expecting Niall’s face to instantly light up with recognition, Niall simply looked back at Harry bemusedly. “Who the hell is Louis Grimshaw, Haz?”

“Um - I met him today, he said he knew you,” Harry said, already thinking back over his conversation in the bakery. He was _sure_ Louis had said he’d known Niall, he’d definitely mentioned his name at the very least.

“Louis _Grim_ \- “ Niall bent over double with the force of his trademark cackle that was suddenly erupting from his lips. Harry stepped back, looking down at Niall worriedly.

“What did I say?” Harry asked, completely perplexed.

It took Niall a few more seconds to compose himself before he stood up straight, taking one look at Harry’s face before he started to giggle again. “Jeez, mate, don’t say that to Louis’ face, yeah?” Niall warned.

“Say what to his face? What did I say?” Harry repeated, searching Niall’s face for an answer, feeling his own lips quirk reluctantly at his friend’s pure mirth, though.

“Are you being serious?” Niall asked, sobering a little as he took in the look of confusion written all over Harry’s face.

“I - I mean, yeah, I don’t know think I’m in on the joke,” Harry said, trying not to pout.

“Oh god, sorry, mate. Um, yeah I know Louis. But his name isn’t Louis Grimshaw,” Niall said, another laugh escaping from him as he said the name. “He’s Louis _Tomlinson_. Not Grimshaw.”

“Oh. So who’s Grimshaw, then?” Harry asked, still a little confused.

“Well, his flatmate is called Nick Grimshaw. But they’re not in a relationship and they’re definitely not married,” Niall explained patiently, and Harry’s mind flashed back to the bakery again, to the tall guy Louis had come in with.

“I think I met Nick as well, then. They came into the shop earlier and picked up an order for ‘Grimshaw’, but I only got Louis’ first name. I guess I just put two and two together wrongly,” Harry spoke slowly, realising his mistake, and thanking god he hadn’t gotten round to calling Louis ‘Grimshaw’ yet.

“Tall quiffy guy? Bit hipster-y?” Niall questioned and Harry nodded. “Yep, that’s him. Aw, Louis Grimshaw, it has a ring to it, doesn’t it?” Niall cackled again and this time Harry joined in.

“I genuinely thought it was his name, so I didn’t think it was that ridiculous!” Harry defended.

“It’s more ridiculous when you know what kind of relationship the two of them have. They’re definitely not the settling down and getting married types, either of them,” Niall explained. “Anyway, don’t worry about it, mate. If you haven’t said it to either of their faces, you’re alright,” Niall clapped Harry on the shoulder, taking the closeness between them as an opportunity to once again inhale deeply.

“Stop being creepy!” Harry reprimanded, stepping back into his own personal space. He glanced over Niall’s shoulder at the people still sitting where Niall had left them. “I’d better let you get back to whatever it was you were doing,” he said, beginning to walk away.

“Oh!” Niall spoke enthusiastically. “We’re actually trying to organise a night out for tonight if you want in?”

Harry hesitated, fiddling with the hem of his work shirt, all of a sudden feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

“I don’t know, Ni. I kind of don’t really see the point of me being there.”

“Oh, come on! Of course there’s a point. Just come out for a few hours or something. I have work tomorrow as well so I’m not going to be out too late.” Niall urged.

“Does a few hours mean, like, two? Or half the night?” Harry eyed Niall with distrust, remembering the last time Niall had dragged him out with the promise of returning after a ‘few hours’ when they ended up stumbling back to the halls at 5 in the morning. Harry had never quite forgiven Niall for that, and neither had Zayn who had been woken up by their drunken noises after only being asleep for a little while himself.

“A _few_!” Niall insisted. “We’ll more than likely be home before midnight.”

Harry bit his lip, weighing up his options, but his thought process was cut short when Niall turned on his puppy dog eyes full blast in Harry’s direction.

“Ahh, get out of here!” Harry laughed, hiding Niall’s face with his hands. “Fine, I’ll come out with you. Thank you for the invitation."

“Yay!” Niall cheered, launching himself at Harry and embracing him in a tight hug again. “Harry’s coming!” Niall shouted back into the kitchenette, causing Harry to cringe when there was a complete lack of reaction from the people gathered there.

“I’m going to go and get ready, let me know when you’re leaving,” Harry said, trying to hide his hurt from Niall, turning and heading down the hall to his room.

Pushing the door open into his room, Harry heaved a deep sigh of relief. He hadn’t been living in his room for long, but already he absolutely loved it. He had worked hard to get his room the way he wanted it, and while it was quite a small room, it was comfortable and very much Harry’s.

His bed had his own duvet cover on it from home, and although it no longer smelled like his mum’s washing powder, it was still very comforting for Harry to be able to curl up underneath something that had been his for so long already. It was like he’d brought a touch of home along with him.

His wardrobe was full of all of his favourite outfits, clothes that had some of Harry’s favourite memories attached to them hanging alongside comfort clothes that he could wear whenever he needed a bit of a pick me up.

The highlight of the whole room for Harry, though, was the corkboard that hung above his desk. He had completely covered the corkboard in memorabilia; photographs, letters, even a few old ticket stubs from various concerts he’d been to in the past. Whenever he was sat at his desk and working hard, all he had to do was glance up at his corkboard and he’d find himself smiling at the memories he was faced with.

He took a few minutes to run his fingers along some of the photos, tips of his fingers catching on the corner of one of his favourite photographs of all time, which showed Harry with his mum and older sister, Gemma, stood in their garden back at home, all with their arms wrapped around each other and cheesing at the camera. Looking at the photograph, Harry was transported back to the afternoon it had been taken, could practically smell the flowers in the garden behind them, could feel his mum and sister’s touches around his shoulders and the heat of the summer sun falling onto his skin. Harry smiled fondly at the memory.

Harry let his hand fall from the photograph and toed his boots off, flopping back onto the bed and flicking idly through his phone for a few minutes, simply soaking in the near silence of his room, completely still and at complete contrast with the quick pace of the bakery he had been in all day.

He wasn’t really looking forward to going out that night, heading back into even more noisiness, but he’d promised Niall so he figured he’d better show willing. He was just hoisting himself up from the bed to go and get ready when there was a short knock at his bedroom door.

Harry opened the door and wasn’t at all surprised to see his neighbour, Zayn, stood in the hall. It was only ever going to be him or Niall if anyone, realistically, so it was always a 50/50 chance. Zayn was exuding his natural coolness, dressed head to toe in black except for the white paint splatter on his left knee. But the moody facade melted when his face broke into a large smile when he saw Harry.

“Hi, babe, you okay?” he asked, already coming into Harry’s room.

“I’m good. You had a good day?” Harry asked, clearing some papers from his desk chair for Zayn to sit down on.

“Yeah, finally got over my artist’s block, didn’t I?” Zayn beamed. “So it’s been a busy one, only just finished painting a few minutes ago and thought I heard you moving around in here so decided to pay you a visit,” Zayn slumped into the chair gratefully, snagging Harry around the waist and pulling him down onto his lap, nuzzling him from behind. “How was work?”

“It was okay, spent most of the time icing a set of cupcakes for someone’s order, but that was good. Kind of just want to fall asleep right now, though,” Harry pouted, leaning his head back on Zayn’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you, then? I can leave.”

“Niall’s asked me to go out with a group of them tonight, and I already said yes so it looks like I have plans,” Harry sighed.

“Want me to come with you?” Zayn asked curiously.

“It’s up to you. I wouldn’t say no to your company but I know it isn’t really going to be your scene either so you really don’t have to.”

Harry pushed himself up to his feet, turning to look back at Zayn, searching his face for an answer.

“I think I’ll pass, babe,” Zayn said apologetically, “but give me a call if you need me to come and get you or anything. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you. Hopefully I won’t have to take you up on that, but the offer means a lot.” Harry placed a quick kiss on Zayn’s cheek before straightening up again. “I’d better start getting ready, Niall’s probably going to want to get going soon.”

“No problem, give me a text or something when you’re back?” Zayn asked, rising to his feet as well.

“You sure? It might be late.”

“I’m sure. Want to know you’re back safely, don’t I, babe,” Zayn said, running his hand through Harry’s hair as he walked past him towards the door. “Go careful, won’t you?”

“I will. Probably won’t even drink anything. Like I said, I kind of just want to go to sleep,” Harry pouted.

“You know you don’t _have_ to go out. Stay in if you’re not feeling up for it,” Zayn said, looking at Harry concernedly.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll at least show my face. It might be fun.”

“Alright, well I’ll leave you to get ready, then. You have fun, babe, let me know when you get back,” Zayn reminded, and then he left, leaving Harry to haul himself into the shower and start getting ready to leave.

He was all showered and dressed up within twenty minutes and he made his way back through to the kitchen, spotting Niall straight away and making a beeline for him.

“H!” Niall shouted when he caught sight of Harry, his cheeks were already flushed, and he was clearly already on his way to being fully drunk. “You look so good. Doesn’t he look good?” he addressed the kitchen, and Harry smacked at Niall’s chest embarrassedly. “You look lovely,” Niall repeated insistently, leaning in to Harry’s face as if trying to show how sincere he was being.

Harry giggled, drawing back.

“Thank you, Niall. I see your beer goggles have kicked in nice and early, this could be interesting.”

“Oh you cheeky sod!” Niall squawked, bending over to let out a loud laugh. “You ready to go, then?”

“Ready as I’m going to be,” Harry sighed.

“Good!” Niall crowed, not noticing Harry’s lack of enthusiasm, and grabbed Harry by the hand, leading him and the rest of the group out of the front door.

Less than two hours later Harry somehow found himself in the middle of a crowded dance floor, heavy bass music pounding around him, the slightly sticky floor practically vibrating underneath his feet, and completely surrounded by people. He had a girl pressed to his front, her hands draped loosely over his shoulders, and there was another dancing behind him, he could feel her brushing up against his ass every so often. This was not what Harry was used to at all, but he quickly discovered that the more enthusiastically he moved his own hips in response, the more attention he got. He finally felt as though he belonged somewhere, and as though people actually wanted to be near to him. He found the situation a little bemusing, was almost a little uncomfortable with the sudden switch in his social status, but nonetheless was very pleased with the attention he was receiving. He was ultimately loving it, having a great night.

He kept catching a very drunken Niall’s eyes from across the room, who kept shooting him thumbs up, face split wide in a toothy grin, to which Harry simply rolled his eyes in response and continued moving his body to the heavy beat of the music.

The girl who had attached herself to Harry’s torso pulled Harry in closer to her body, leaning up on her tiptoes to nuzzle into Harry’s neck. Harry’s eyes widened as he felt her lips brush the skin there, but his hands gripped onto her almost reflexively, supporting her weight along with his own.

“You’re so beautiful,” the girl slurred right next to his ear, Harry only just managing to catch her words over the loud noises of the club around him. “You’re so fucking fit, lovely.”

Her hands dug into his back, just above the curve of his ass, attempting to push Harry’s body even firmer into her own. Harry breathed in a quick shocked gasp of air as he was suddenly flattened against her chest, her hands dipping even more dangerously low on his back, fingertips probably making contact with his ass although Harry couldn’t actually feel her touch. Harry was definitely shocked, but he didn’t quite want to stop her just yet. He was enjoying finally getting some attention from someone, finally feeling as though he was still even a little bit alluring to other people his age as opposed to just elderly customers at work. This girl’s attention was giving Harry a massive confidence boost.

He allowed himself to move in time with the girl clinging to him, one of his own hands dropping to where her hips were circling, moving his own hips in time. They got quite a nice rhythm going and Harry could feel other people’s eyes on the pair of them. He took one glance around the dimly lit room, confirming that they did indeed have a bit of an audience, mainly consisting of girls who were appeared to be eyeing Harry up hungrily.

Harry bent a little at the knees so he could hide his face in the girl’s neck, trying to conceal his smile against her skin. Maybe this was the perfect way for him to get himself noticed, to get people to like him, to get them to enjoy his company. It was certainly working so far if the way the girl nuzzled in against him was any indication.

They stayed there on the dance floor for a little while longer, their movements growing increasingly more erratic as each song changed into another, hands roaming freely up backs and over torsos, before the girl pulled back a little to look up at Harry’s face.

“Fancy coming with me to the loo?” she half-shouted over the music.

Harry frowned, thinking he had probably misheard her, and leaned down a little to give her the chance to repeat herself louder directly into his ear. Unfortunately she seemed to misinterpret Harry’s movement and the next thing Harry knew, a pair of soft lips were attached to his without warning. Harry tried to pull back, opening his mouth to protest, but then the girl’s tongue was swiftly snaking its way into his mouth.

Harry balked, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders and pushing as gently but authoritatively as he could, trying to back away a few steps, forgetting that the bodies crowded behind him made that a little impossible.

“I’m sorry - “ Harry began to say, but the girl just stepped closer, already leaning back up to reconnect their lips. “Hey, no!” Harry said louder, once again pushing her back lightly.

The girl ceased her attempts to kiss Harry, practically stomping her foot in impatience as she stepped back to look up at him inquisitively.

“Um - “ Harry hesitated, trying to work out the most polite way to extract himself from this situation. “I - er - I just need to go to the loo quickly. Give me a minute, yeah?” he said, already starting to manoeuvre his way past her on the packed dance floor.

However, this time he was stopped by the girl’s hand on his wrist.

“That’s what I said, silly!” The girl slurred, beaming at him happily. “Come on.” And suddenly she was back in front of Harry again, pulling him along by his wrist.

Harry figured he’d allow himself to be pulled in the direction of the toilets before trying to explain again, and this proved to be a good plan because when they reached the hall leading down to the toilets, it was a lot quieter than the dancefloor had been. The sounds of the club melting away as the door shut behind them.

Harry stopped abruptly about halfway down the hall, pulling his wrist free from the girl’s manicured hand.

“Hey,” he said gently. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I - “

But this time Harry’s apology was cut short by the girl pushing him up against the wall and pressing her lips to his again.

“No wrong idea. You want this as much as I do,” she murmured against Harry’s mouth, tongue swiping across Harry’s bottom lip, the hint of teeth nipping at him. “Let’s get into the loo and see what you can do.” Another kiss and Harry put his hand back on her shoulder, ready to push her away again when suddenly and noisily a door slammed open against the wall.

“Oiiii oiiii!” A loud drunken slur sounded down the corridor, a man stumbling past the pair towards the toilets, and the girl pressed herself further into Harry’s body. Harry reflexively held her closer, instinctively protecting her from the other man before finally he managed to push her away.

“Sorry,” he muttered to her. “You’re a great girl, really. You should go back out there and have fun -” He trailed off a little uselessly. He had no idea how to do this, how to let someone down gently when he’d grown so used to being on the receiving end of nothing but a complete lack of interest for the past few weeks.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” the girl smiled, looking up at Harry through her eyelashes. “Come and find me when you want to leave.”

The girl turned on her heel and started walking slightly unsteadily down the hall towards the loo, sending Harry a wink over her shoulder on her way which only caused Harry to sigh in exasperation, smiling politely back at her.

He remained in the relatively quiet hallway for a moment longer once the toilet door had closed behind her, just trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

He was ripped back out of his thoughts by the same male voice from before carrying down the hall towards him again.

“Oiiii Oiii - Oh,” Harry looked up at the altered tone of the man’s voice, and his mouth immediately dropped open when he was that the voice belonged to none other than Louis Grim - _Tomlinson_. Small world.

Harry lifted a hand in greeting, a smile playing on his lips as he took in Louis’ visibly less than sober state as he continued to make his down the corridor towards Harry.

Harry started to feel just a little uncomfortable as Louis approached him, simply because of the full body examination Louis appeared to be giving him.

His eyes were slightly unfocused, but they were sliding up and down Harry’s body, lingering at various areas such as his hair and his thighs. Harry shifted uncomfortably, straightening up a little and pushing himself off the wall.

“Hey!” he said, brightly, when he couldn’t stand the awkwardness any longer.

Louis staggered a little closer and then stopped right in front of Harry, looking up into Harry’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked tentatively when Louis still made no move to say or do anything.

Louis’ mouth dropped open, his eyes widening and he shook his head rapidly, comically.

“Baker boy!” he slurred, and then shocked Harry by throwing his arms around him and hugging him tight. “You made the bakers, I mean, the cupcakes,” Louis laughed. “They were good cupcakes!” He squeezed Harry tighter before releasing him and pulling back to look into his eyes again. “Thank you for making the cupcakes!”

Harry laughed abruptly, his hand flying up to his mouth to try to disguise the harsh sound, although it was useless and Louis folded his arms in response, pouting.

“Don’t laugh at me, baker boy!” He prodded Harry hard in the chest. “I liked the cupcakes.” His pout grew even more pronounced.

Harry stifled another giggle. “I got that. Good, I’m glad you liked them. I think you maybe enjoyed the alcohol a little more, though?”

“Good alcohol here, huh?” Louis said, nodding and beaming up at Harry, apparently forgetting that he was supposed to be offended.

“I wouldn’t know,” Harry said, “but I’ll take your word for it, drunkie.”

“Why wouldn’t you know? Go and have a drink, baker boy!” Louis said, sounding affronted all over again. “Let me buy you one.”

“I have work early tomorrow, I’m trying not to drink tonight,” Harry explained patiently. “By all means, you go out there and have another one, though. Enjoy your night.”

“Oh, come on. One drink won’t hurt you!” Louis protested. “I am enjoying my night. But I’ve lost all my people. So I would appreciate your company, while we each have a drink, okay?” Louis said, with all the sense and determination of a truly drunken mind.

He began to march away, Harry automatically following him before Louis gasped suddenly, swinging round to face him again and pointing a finger accusingly in Harry’s face. Harry backed up a few steps.

“You - you were making out with someone when I came down here! Did I - “ he paused, looking a little lost, glancing back up the empty hall. “Did I dream that? Where did she go?” Louis quizzed, puzzled but not pausing long enough for Harry to even take a breath in, let alone provide him with an answer. “Oh no. Did I spoil the moment?” He looked distraught. “I’m so sorry, baker boy. I’ll buy you two drinks to make up for it.”

“You didn’t spoil anything. It was… a misunderstanding,” Harry said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And my name isn’t baker boy. I’m Harry. Styles.” He briefly considered holding out his hand for Louis to shake again in a parody of their bakery meeting earlier but eventually decided against it.

“I know,” Louis smiled, ignoring the first half of Harry’s statement. “And I’m Louis. Nice to meet you.” Then Louis winked at Harry, giggling a little and turning to walk back into the club again.

Harry trailed behind him, eyes definitely not drifting down to the sight of Louis’ arse in his sinfully tight jeans as he sashayed his hips in front of him.

Maybe Harry could accept just one drink from this pretty boy. What harm could it do him, really?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> Thought I'd just put a little warning here, as there is quite a lot of mentions of alcohol in this chapter. Just in case that makes anyone feel uncomfortable, please consider that first. 
> 
> Hope people are enjoying this so far!
> 
> ***

Louis had allowed himself to get disgustingly drunk. Originally, he was only supposed to be tagging along with Nick to his work do, but that had quickly morphed into a massive night out at one of the busiest clubs in Manchester, with people inviting him to dance and buying him drinks. And now he was ridiculously unsteady on his feet, and had somehow managed to lose the people he had arrived with in the first place.

He hadn’t been particularly worried about that fact, had halfheartedly wandered around the busy club and out into the smoking area, keeping an eye out for his group of friends before giving up altogether and heading back to the bar to get himself another drink.

Once he had finished that drink he decided to take himself off to the toilets, because for all he knew his friends could have been in there anyway. It wasn’t completely unheard of for a large group of them to go off and disappear into a cubicle together, although Louis had never really gotten involved with that side of nights out in the past.

Now, Louis was thanking his twenty minutes ago past self for that stroke of genius, because now he was walking the streets of Manchester looking for a taxi, while being heavily leaned on by a slightly more drunk than himself - but only _slightly_ \- and very tall beautiful baker boy. _Harry_ _Styles_ , he reminded himself.

“What?” Harry spoke right into Louis’ ear, his deep raspy voice startling Louis.

“What what?” Louis asked, shifting his body a little to get more comfortable and causing Harry’s arm to tighten around his shoulder.

“You said my name,” Harry mumbled, and then yawned loud and unobstructed right in Louis’ face.

“Charming, thanks, mate,” Louis muttered, hauling Harry in closer to his body. “I didn’t say your name, baker boy. You must be hallucinating. Poor boy.”

“You got me drunk,” Harry said, pointing a finger accusingly at Louis. “I have work in the morning, and now I’m going to be hungover. I won’t be a very good baker boy while I’m nursing a hangover.”

“Aw, diddums,” Louis cooed sarcastically, although the slightest feeling of guilt was starting to tickle the back of his brain. “You’ll be alright, love.”

Louis sighed in relief as he finally caught the attention of a taxi, helping Harry climb safely into the backseat before walking round the car to get in the other side.

“Do you want to give your address first?” Louis asked Harry, who looked like he was just a few minutes from falling asleep. He nudged Harry’s thigh to make him pay attention. “Address, babe, go on.”

“Oh,” Harry said conversationally, “I live in Richmond Park, not far. I could walk actually, if you - “

Louis interrupted him, relaying the information to the driver and fastening Harry’s seatbelt for him.

“You’re not walking, babe. You’re very drunk, which I’ll admit was my bad influence. I apologise,” Louis said, quickly fastening his own seatbelt as the car began to drive, flashes of Manchester’s nightlife whizzing past.

Harry giggled lightly, and hid another yawn in the back of his hand. “It’s okay, Lou.”

The pair sat in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the quick journey, Louis tapping Harry on the leg every so often to keep him from falling asleep, and when the taxi pulled up outside Harry’s campus, Louis asked the driver to wait while he walked Harry in.

Harry was a little steadier on his feet as they got out of the car and although he still leaned on Louis, his weight was a lot more manageable to deal with.

“Did you have a good night, love?” Louis asked as Harry guided them through campus to the right block.

“I did. I probably had a better night than I was supposed to have, really. Like I said, I have work, and this was only supposed to be a quick night out. What even is the time?” Harry’s voice came out slowly, speech not exactly slurred, but definitely slower than the average person’s talking pace, although thinking back to their meeting in the bakery earlier, Harry had been talking pretty slowly then as well. It was endearing, Louis had heard a lot of Harry’s voice that evening and he could have happily sat and listened to him talk for the rest of the night if time hadn’t been an issue.

Louis fished his phone out of his pocket and squinted his eyes against the harsh light once he unlocked it. “It’s just coming up to three o’clock, babe,” Louis said.

“Oh, God, no,” Harry groaned. “I have to be up in…” he paused to work out the maths, “...four hours to get to work.”

Louis winced sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Curly. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Harry said, although he didn’t sound convinced. “I really did have a good night with you, so thank you for that. You’re really good company.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you, as well. My friends basically completely ditched me so it was nice of you to take on this charity case,” Louis quipped.

“Hey!” Harry whined, drawing the word out, as they came to a stop at a building. He spun around to face Louis, digging in his pocket for something, but keeping his eyes firmly on Louis’ face. “You were not a charity case. You _are_ not a charity case. I think, if anything, you probably took pity on me. So, yeah, thank you for doing that.”

Louis frowned, not grasping what Harry was saying.

With a clink of metal, Harry pulled free a set of keys, and turned his back to Louis to insert the key into the door, but before Harry could push the door open, Louis stopped him.

“What do you mean, I took pity on you? Pity on what?” Louis asked, trying to work out what Harry meant. “You were snogging someone when I found you, weren’t you? Why would I pity that?”

Harry turned back round to face Louis, he looked suddenly inexplicably sad, a little lost. Louis immediately ran through what he’d just said, wondering what he’d said to hurt Harry.

“I guess I just - I haven’t really made any real connections with anyone since I came here. Not really,” Harry said. “I only kissed that girl because she wanted to, and I wanted to make her happy. But there wasn’t a connection beyond that. There really isn’t a lot of connecting going on. Except - “ Harry paused, sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and glanced away. “I don’t know. It was nice to feel like I had a friend there with me tonight.”

“You absolutely did have a friend with you. I’m so sorry you feel that way, though.”

Louis felt so bad for this boy stood in front of him, he wasn’t pitying him as such, but he felt as though he could relate to him in a strange way. That feeling of being alone was definitely one that Louis had experienced himself in his more closeted years when he had deliberately secluded himself from others in an attempt to keep his secret. Harry seemed like such a genuinely good guy, as well as coming across as so confident, so self-assured. Louis would never have imagined someone like him would feel as though he was so alone.

“Hey,” Louis said, “why don’t I give you my number, and then whenever you need someone to go out with, or just someone to make you smile, to make _you_ happy, I can try my best to be that person for you?”

Louis felt a little weird suggesting it, but the way Harry’s face instantly lit up in response made it all worth it.

“Do you mean that?” Harry asked, already starting to pull his phone free from where it was tucked into his tight jeans pocket. “Really?”

“Of course I do. Hand it over, then,” Louis said, pretending not to notice the way their fingers brushed when Harry did so, a jolt of icy cold skin touching icy cold skin.

Louis made quick work of entering his mobile number into Harry’s phone, quickly calling himself so he would have Harry’s number, too, and setting his name as Lou, because Harry had called him that numerous times throughout the night, and while it was never a nickname Louis had liked or even tolerated before, somehow coming from Harry he hadn’t minded it so much.

Louis handed the phone back to Harry and Harry took it from him gratefully.

“Are you going to be okay getting up to your room?” Louis asked, genuinely a little concerned for Harry’s steadiness, or lack thereof.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for walking me home, Lou,” Harry said, grinning. “It was nice to meet you, again.” And then inexplicably Harry stuck his free hand out in Louis’ direction.

Louis stared down at it for a few long moments before Harry sighed loudly. Louis glanced up into Harry’s eyes, confused. “You want me to… what, to shake your hand?” Louis guessed, and when Harry nodded, beaming hugely, causing his dimples to pop into his cheeks, Louis suppressed a giggle and took Harry’s hand in his own. “Nice to meet you again as well, baker boy. Go and get some rest so you can be a good baker boy tomorrow, yeah?”

They let each others’ hands go and Harry smiled almost shyly, ducking his head a little.

“Thank you, Lou. I hope you get home safely.”

“I’m sure I will, and I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?” Louis said.

“Yep,” Harry said, popping the p. “Good night, then!”

“Night, love,” Louis said, pulling Harry in for a quick hug before Harry turned to enter the building, shooting one last look at Louis as the door swung shut behind him, separating them.

Louis turned and picked his way back through campus to the taxi, suddenly feeling ten times colder than he had done for the whole night.

***

The next day, Louis woke up with a pounding headache. He groaned into his pillow, but even that caused his head to scream back at him in protest so he cut the noise off with a short whimper.

He turned his head minutely on the pillow, and saw that he was alone in the bed. He had no recollection of Nick coming back at all the previous night, but the pillow beside him was a little crumpled so perhaps he had done.

Louis had dealt with plenty of hangovers in the past and he had developed yet another routine for how to cope with them. But somehow, whenever the event actually came around where he needed to deal with it, he couldn’t get his body to co-operate with what his mind was telling him was a good idea.

It took Louis several attempts to even sit up, let alone get himself up and out of bed completely. He checked his phone, cursing at the sudden brightness in his face. The time read 12:22, and Louis was almost tempted to just give up and sleep through until Monday morning but he persevered, bringing his phone into the bathroom with him when he finally swung his legs out of bed.

He was a little too unsteady on his feet, and the noises he was making were doing his head in even more. All he was doing was turning a tap on, splashing his face with water, but to Louis it was almost unbearable.

He scooped large handfuls of water into his mouth, swishing the liquid around in an attempt to get some moisture back, and he was halfway successful.

Next on his agenda was to actually drink some water, but somehow he didn’t fancy drinking from the bathroom tap, and no one had been considerate enough to leave him a glass by the bed, so this meant he had to venture out into the kitchen, where there was bound to be yet more unnecessary noises going on.

He quickly glanced over his attire, which was the same outfit he’d gone out in last night, albeit definitely looking a little worse for wear, and decided that he was presentable enough to potentially face Liam and Nick so he left the sanctity of the bedroom behind him.

When he reached the kitchen, however, he was pleasantly surprised to be faced with a completely empty room. Come to think of it, there were actually no sounds going off anywhere else in the flat at all, besides trailing in Louis’ wake. He quickly filled himself a glass of ice water and downed it standing up at the kitchen sink before pouring himself another and taking it back into the bathroom with him.

He unlocked his phone while he brushed his teeth, tapping out a message to both Liam and Nick enquiring their whereabouts, and then on a whim sent another to ‘Baker Boy’, as Louis had input Harry’s number, asking him what he was up to.

Then after taking another swig of water, and already feeling a little more human - or at least a little less like he was on the verge of actually dying - he stripped off his sticky, smelly club clothes and climbed into the shower.

Louis loved his hungover showers. Like, absolutely lived for them. So he didn’t exactly rush his shower, knowing that he wasn’t going to get interrupted anyway. He let his mind go completely blank as the water washed away all of the sweat and alcohol from the night before, the muck disappearing down the drain underneath his feet.

He washed his hair out as well, even squeezing some of Nick’s conditioner onto his palm and working that through the wet strands, because he felt a little like pampering himself that day, and he didn’t use conditioner very often at all. Nick wouldn’t mind.

Louis eventually shut the shower off and walked back into the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his shoulders. It was days like this when Louis wished they owned some fluffier, more comfortable towels, just to really top off the pampering experience, but unfortunately he had to make do with the slightly scratchy thin towels Nick always bought.

He swiped his phone up on his way back into the bedroom and then sat himself on the bed as he idly rubbed a second towel over his sopping wet hair.

He clicked his phone on and saw he had a few messages waiting for him. He skimmed them quickly, Nick’s text informing him that Liam had taken him out for coffee. So that was nice of them to invite Louis along. Another text from a girl on Louis’ course telling him she might not be in on Monday because she’d had a crazy night out last night and was expecting to have another tonight. Louis rolled his eyes at that one. He loved a good night out as much as the next person, especially with the friends he had, they were kind of unavoidable, but he really tried to never let his partying interfere with his studies, and he felt bad for the people who did.

The last message was the one that really caught his attention though, because the name above the message was ‘Baker Boy’. Already smiling, Louis opened the message.

**Hiii. I’m at work, aren’t I? What about you?**

_Oh shit yeah. I forgot you had work today, poor soul. I’m slightly ashamed to say I’ve just woken up. (hiding monkey emoji)_

**Lucky you!** , Harry’s reply came through quickly. **I’ve been up since 7 o’clock! If you want to come down to the bakery, I’m sure I can slip you a free coffee and pastry of your choice. No pressure, though!**

Louis smiled at the text, the idea of food turning his stomach a little bit but he wouldn’t turn down something caffeinated.

_How long you working for? I’m not really ready to leave the house just yet._

Harry’s text didn’t come back immediately this time, so Louis left his phone on the bed while he got up and found something to change into. He settled on a soft and comfy pair of sweatpants, and a baggy vest top, trying to work the thin line between comfort and style. He took the time to style his hair in front of the mirror as well, tweaking his fringe to as close to perfection as he could get in his current state.

When he checked his phone again he had two new messages from Harry.

**I work till 5 today.  
** **Got to get back out into the shop now, but I look forward to seeing you?**

A quick glance at the time told Louis that it was now only 1:15pm so he had plenty of time to get down to the bakery, but somehow he didn’t want to just sit and wait around anymore, so he started gathering his things and getting ready to venture outside.

While he was waiting at the bus stop, he tapped out a quick text to Nick telling him where he was going, and thanking him profusely for his and Liam’s offer to join them for coffee, of course.

The bus was pretty packed by the time Louis got on, which was to be expected, really, considering it was just gone midday on a Saturday, but he managed to find himself a seat for the short journey into town, so he couldn’t complain.

When Louis pushed open the door to Patisserie Valerie, he was immediately greeted by the deliciously sweet smells of baking goods. The warmth within the shop engulfing him, welcoming him in. The culmination of so many sweet smelling things should have been a little overwhelming, particularly in Louis’ fragile state, but he actually really loved it, inhaling deeply, appreciatively.

The shop was quite busy, a small queue was formed at the counter and the majority of the downstairs seating area was filled up. People were sitting around sipping coffees, and nibbling on pastries, some had their laptops open in front of them, while others chatted with friends. Louis hadn’t yet caught sight of Harry and hung back a little to send him a quick text.

_I’m here. Where abouts are you, baker boy?_

A few minutes passed, and still no reply came through. Louis decided to join the queue and order himself something, and then go and find himself somewhere quiet to wait for Harry to emerge.

He had only just rejoined the queue when a door further inside the shop opened and out came Harry, a large tray balancing in his hands. He quickly placed them under the counter and set straight to work serving the next customer in line.

Louis sneakily let someone else in front of him to ensure that he would be served by Harry and Harry only and it was worth it for the way Harry’s - slightly tired, actually, the poor boy - face lit up as soon as he laid eyes on him.

“Lou! You came!” Harry beamed. “You ok?”

“I’m good, I’m good. But, then, I’ve had a bit more of a lie-in than you probably managed. How are you feeling?” Louis asked, biting his lip to try to keep his own smile in check.

“Was tough to start with, but I’ve had a fair few coffees since I’ve been here so it’s getting easier and easier,” Harry smiled. “Speaking of, what can I get for you?”

Louis hummed thoughtfully, before settling on, “I will have a double espresso, please. And I’m not a hundred percent sure I can stomach any food yet, but do you have any recommendations?”

Harry tutted, already moving to start making Louis’ coffee. “You need to eat something, you know,” he said sternly. “Would you rather have sweet or savoury?”

Louis’ stomach grumbled a little in response to Harry’s words, luckily nowhere near loud enough for anyone around him to hear.

“Savoury, maybe?” Louis decided.

“Okay. Well we’ve got soups, jacket potatoes, sandwiches, wraps,” Harry listed off. “I would recommend the mozzarella wrap, they’re really good. Or the jacket potatoes, which are good for you and really filling. But both will do you good right now, so whatever you like.”

Harry finished pouring Louis’ coffee and placed it on the counter before him, resting his hands on his hips as he waited for Louis’ decision.

“I’ll have the wrap, then, please. I trust your judgement,” Louis said, lifting the coffee cup down from the counter.

“No problem,” Harry said, bending and retrieving one from the counter. “Enjoy!”

“Wait,” Louis stopped Harry from moving onto the next customer and then smiled at that customer apologetically. “How much do I owe you?”

Harry scoffed. “You don’t owe me anything. It’s on me, I told you. Now run along, I’ll come and find you later, okay?” Harry smiled to soften his words and then started taking the next customer’s order.

Louis stood rooted to the spot for a little bit, torn between wanting to just go and devour his food and feeling too guilty to do so without paying a penny but eventually his hunger - and the fact that the queue was growing even longer behind him - convinced him to move along.

He took his goods upstairs and sat at a window table, sipping the coffee slowly and looking down  at the people on the street below. The coffee was perfect, just what Louis needed, and Louis already knew that free coffee was always the best kind of coffee thanks to his Monday morning deal with Niall.

At his first bite into the wrap, Louis actually groaned out loud in appreciation. It was a little too much like health food for him, meaning that he probably would never have thought to order it for himself, but it was so well done. The wrap alone was delicious, and the mozzarella and tomato went perfectly together. He was a little ashamed at how quickly he wolfed it down, stomach rumbling appreciatively.

The rest of Louis’ afternoon passed pretty quickly, people watching and making up little scenarios in his head about the people he saw doing wonders at passing the time. Harry paid him a couple of visits, coming upstairs under the pretence of tidying up the tables and actually ending up sitting with Louis for ten minutes or so, just catching up on their days so far.

At one point, Harry came up to tell him that the seats downstairs had cleared so Louis went down with him to keep him company.

By the time the end of Harry’s shift rolled around, Louis had spent far too long staring at Harry as he went about his business, eyeing his long legs, his profile as he laughed at something a customer said, the way he automatically went to fiddle with his hair before remembering it was tied up and letting his hand fall to his side again. Louis was a little bit fascinated with this boy, found himself wanting to know more and more about him.

If Louis also went to sleep that night with Harry Styles, baker boy, in his mind, well, no one needed to know.

***

When Louis walked into class on Monday morning, coffee in hand, the first thing he did was scan the classroom for a certain Mr Harry Styles, but was unable to see him. No cupcakes sat on the front desk, and there was no Harry Styles present, so he slumped down in his usual seat and spent the next few minutes pretending not to obsessively watch the door for his arrival.

They hadn’t really spoken much since their meeting on Saturday, sending a few quick texts asking the usual ‘you ok’s, and ‘what you up to’s, but they hadn’t had the chance to have a proper conversation, and Louis was looking forward to seeing Harry again.

So when the door opened and Harry finally walked into the room, Louis instinctively rose to his feet to go over and greet him, but stopped short as he took one look at Harry’s appearance. He didn’t look bad, per se, but he didn’t quite look like himself either. He looked like a more bedraggled version of the put together guy Louis had already grown used to. His hair was pulled up into a messy bun, as it usually was when Harry was at the bakery, and he was wearing very loose fitting clothes as opposed to his usual tight skinny jeans and flowing shirts. He just looked genuinely tired, possibly ill, and Louis frowned as he sunk back down into his seat.

Harry didn’t look up as he walked to a seat across the room and sat down, holding his head in one hand and basically looking kind of miserable.

Louis was about to get up to go over to him but the lecturer chose that precise moment to enter the room so Louis was forced to stay put.

Ten minutes into the lecturer’s speech on what the plans were for that day, and Louis’ eyes had strayed over to Harry’s side of the room countless times. Harry had remained in the exact same position he’d sat down in, head slightly bowed and resting on one hand, body relaxed but slumped.

Louis subtly slid his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a quick message, hoping that Harry’s phone was on silent and he wouldn’t be caught.

_Hey baker boy. Everything ok?_

Louis sent the message off and kept his eyes fixed on Harry, barely even registering the lecturer’s words now, irrationally focused on the boy across the room.

Harry’s phone, luckily, didn’t make any noise, but Harry also didn’t react at all, remained sat still like a statue.

Finally the lecturer finished his instructions, which were to group off and take a certain scene from the play they were working on and improvise what else could happen in that scene, which isn’t something that Louis really enjoyed. He much preferred being given a set script and sticking to it instead of making things up on the spot; he was good at improvisation, but that didn’t mean he particularly enjoyed it, and he vowed to himself that he would never force his students to engage in whole lessons of improv when he became a teacher.

Harry still hadn’t moved, and Louis rose to head over to him. However he was stopped by Eleanor, who also looked very run down.

“Babe, work with me? I’m not feeling it today, I need your positivity,” she spoke in a bit of a croak, voice hoarse and barely there.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis said a little distractedly, still trying to keep an eye on Harry. “Are you okay?” he said, shifting his gaze over to Eleanor. “Thought you weren’t going to make it in today.”

“Yeah, I nearly didn’t,” Eleanor said, “Wish I had stayed at home now, though. If I’d known it was improv today I definitely wouldn’t have made the effort. Bit of a crazy night last night, to be honest.”

“So, you went out three nights in a row?” Louis questioned, trying to keep the judgement out of his voice. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Niall making his way across the room to Harry.

“I did. It was only supposed to be two but then I just thought, fuck it, I’ve come this far, I’m going to try and make it all three. It was a friend’s birthday weekend so she decided to really make the most of it.”

“You poor girl,” Louis cooed, eyes shifting across fully to Niall and Harry. Niall was now kneeling down next to Harry’s chair speaking to him. “Um.. If you’ll excuse me?” Louis said politely. “We can definitely work together, I just want to go and check on someone.”

Eleanor nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine, I’ll round up some more people.”

But Louis was already walking over to Harry, finally, and didn’t register what she had said. Niall glanced up as he got closer.

“Afraid this might be my fault, mate,” Niall said, rising to his feet, and wincing apologetically.

“What’s wrong with him?” Louis asked concernedly.

“Took him out last night, didn’t I? I’m a really bad influence, it looks like. He’s okay, but he does hate me a bit right now.”

“Harry, babe, you okay?” Louis said, popping up to sit on the desk in front of Harry, who was still in the same position.

“‘Babe’?” Niall asked, curiously, but Louis ignored him as he heard Harry’s faint whimper.

“Do you want some water or something?” Louis asked. “Have you eaten?”

Harry shook his head minutely, and then glanced up into Louis’ eyes. Harry’s eyes were bloodshot, dark circles bruising the skin underneath. He looked exhausted more than anything.

“Look, babe, do you just want to go home? It’s only improv today, most people aren’t even that thrilled about it,” Louis said. “You won’t be missing anything.”

Harry shrugged and then winced. “It took me so much effort to get here,” he finally spoke, and his voice was as shot - if not more so - than Eleanor’s had been, voice cracking several times. “I don’t want to make the same effort to get all the way back.” Harry then hid a massive yawn in the back of his hand, eyes squeezing shut.

Louis couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face; there was something that was so endearing about this boy, even when he clearly wasn’t looking or feeling his best.

“I really think you should go home, Harry. I can help you get back if you want? I’m not keen on improv at all, so any excuse to get out of it would be fine by me,” Louis said, coaxingly.

“Really?” Harry asked, meeting Louis’ eyes again. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Honestly, love, I’d be grateful.”

Harry’s eyes flicked up to Niall, who was standing listening to their whole exchange. “Is that okay? If I go back to bed?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, of course, man. God, I feel so bad for doing this to you!” Niall said, patting Harry’s shoulder.

“You should,” Harry glared, but there was a small smile playing on his lips as he slowly stood from his chair, shouldering his bag. “I’ll see you later?”

“Course. Sorry,” Niall said, pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek, who gave Niall a one armed hug in return.

“Okay, just hang on a sec, need to tell someone I’m leaving,” Louis said. “Do you want to wait outside for a minute? Just so no one drags you into a group,” Louis suggested, and Niall agreed to go and wait outside with him, helping Harry leave the room.

Louis picked his way back through the room towards Eleanor, who had already surrounded herself by a group of people.

“Hey!” Louis called out, catching her attention, and she separated from the group, approaching Louis.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I’m going to duck out on this class today, sorry, babe,” Louis said, genuinely feeling a little bad for abandoning her when she was probably feeling as awful as Harry was.

“Oh, why, what’s wrong?” she asked, looking a little worried.

“Nothing’s wrong. With me, at least. My friend’s not feeling too great, want to walk him home, and to be honest I’m not really feeling it today, anyway, so don’t think I’ll be coming back. Sorry.” Louis quickly pulled Eleanor to him in a hug.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, have fun,” Eleanor smiled, already moving back over to her group. She sent a quick wave his way and then Louis was turning and picking his way back across the room again, slipping through the door out into the blissfully quiet corridor.

Harry and Niall were stood outside the glass door at the end of the hall, Harry huddled in on himself and Niall cuddling him close to his chest. Louis’ heart swelled again with something akin to affection, and he quickly trotted down the corridor towards them.

As the heavy glass door swung open, both Niall and Harry turned to look at Louis, smiles playing on both their faces. Louis grinned back.

“Are you ready to go, then, Harry?” Louis enquired and Harry nodded slowly, as if the movement caused him pain.

“Yeah, let’s go. Thank you, Niall,” Harry said with a secret little smile that Niall returned. Louis glanced between the two of them curiously, but no further explanation was given.

“See you later, lads,” Niall called after them as they started to walk away from the building.

Louis waved in Niall’s general direction, already putting all of his focused into making sure Harry was comfortable, that he could walk okay. He had a strange feeling of deja-vu, once again caring for this guy, helping him to do something as simple as walking. He found that he quite liked it.

“Taxi or can you face the bus?” Louis asked as they left campus.

“I drove in, actually. My room’s like a 5 minute drive away, and I was running late,” Harry said. “But you’re welcome to come back with me, still.”

“I didn’t even know you could drive!” Louis exclaimed. “Yeah, let’s go back together, then. You’re okay to drive, though?” he double-checked, thought it was only safe.

“Yep, I’m fine to drive. I don’t like leaving my car behind anywhere,” Harry said. “And it’s walking I’m having an issue with right now, anyway.”

“Alright, then. Show me the way,” Louis stepped back, allowing Harry to walk past him.

Harry’s car was nice and small, cosy. The back seat was covered with items, but almost in a neat way, his work apron, and work uniform taking up one half of the seating area, and a few boxes with the bakery’s logo displayed on the front and a few envelopes and various papers piled across the remaining space.

“There’s no point putting music on or anything,” Harry said, as they fastened their seatbelts. “It’s not far at all.”

“No problem,” Louis said, smiling across at Harry. “How long have you had this car, then?”

“She was my sister’s up until I started at uni, and then she became mine, so that would have been about four months ago now. Nice little thing, isn’t she?” Harry said, starting to reverse out of his parking space.

“ _She_ is, I like her,” Louis grinned, eyes fixed on Harry’s hands manoeuvring the steering wheel.

They drove in silence for the next few minutes, and then Harry’s campus came into view. He parked up again, and then they were following the same track they’d walked on Saturday night, albeit under much better lit circumstances.

Harry fumbled for his key and then pushed the door open, holding it for Louis to enter first and locking up behind him.

Louis had been here before a while ago, when he’d had to escort Niall home after a bit of a crazy night and then ended up crashing in Niall’s room, so he knew the basic layout of the place, and could navigate the halls easily enough, but it was when they reached Harry’s room that things looked a little different. While Niall’s room had been - and probably still was, knowing Niall - a complete and utter tip, Harry’s room was so neat and tidy, but in a very Harry-way. It still had elements of his character, just a very clean character.

Harry walked straight over to his bed and just about managed to slip his boots off, sending them clunking across the floor before he flopped dramatically back onto the bed, whining and covering his face with an arm.

“Urghhh, I hate Niall Horan,” Harry moaned, and Louis chuckled, slipping his own shoes off.

“Have you had any painkillers or anything?”

“No. Like I said I was running late this morning, so I just thought I’d brave it without,” Harry said, sounding very sorry for himself.

“Do you have any pills in here?”

“I don’t know. Might be some in the bathroom. I’ll get up in a minute, sorry,” Harry said.

“Don’t worry about it, I can go and look if you don’t mind me snooping?”

“I don’t mind. They’ll be in the cabinet above the sink if they’re going to be anywhere.”

As Louis wandered into the bathroom, he heard Harry murmur, “Thanks, Lou,” and smiled as he searched through the cabinet for anything that could help Harry out. He sifted through some plasters, mouthwash, toothpaste, and eventually found a small packet of paracetamol.

“Do you have water in there?” Louis called into the other room. He waited a few seconds for the reply but was met with silence, so he took the pills back into the main room, and saw that Harry was still laying on the bed, arm over his face, and his chest was rising and falling slowly, clearly sleeping.

Louis smiled to himself and placed the painkillers on Harry’s desk, within easy reach of the bed if Harry were to wake up. He covered Harry up with the duvet as much as he could, and then ventured out into the kitchen to try and find him some water.

The kitchen was empty when Louis got there, and very messy. Various boxes of cereal were scattered around the counters and large table, a pile of washing up was waiting to be taken care of by the sink.

Louis moved through the room, opening various - badly organised - cupboards to try and find a clean glass or mug or anything he could use for Harry’s water. Finally finding one, he moved to the sink to fill it up.

Louis turned to leave, mug of water in hand, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed someone stood silently in the doorway.

“Jesus Christ, mate, you scared the shit out of me,” Louis said, his voice embarrassingly high. He cleared his throat self consciously.

The guy laughed lightly. “Sorry about that. Do I know you? What are you doing here?” he questioned.

As Louis got closer to him, he began to feel as though he recognised him from somewhere. But the guy was absolutely gorgeous, and Louis was sure he would instantly have recognised him if he actually did know him.

“Um - I’m Louis. I’m here looking after Harry. Styles? Um, he needed some water,” Louis explained, tripping over his words a little. “Sorry, mate, but I feel like I might know you? Do I?”

The man shrugged easily. “I don’t know, man. I’m Zayn, I’m in the room next to Harry’s, actually. Is he okay?”

Louis ignored Zayn’s second question in favour of gasping. “Oh my God, I do know you, yeah. Well, I know your boyfriend. I kind of… live with him?”

Zayn frowned. “You live with my boyfriend?”

“I knew that would sound weird,” Louis backtracked. “I live with Nick Grimshaw, who also shares a flat with Liam?”

Zayn’s face cleared. “Oh, hey, that’s cool. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before? It’s nice to meet you, though.”

“Thanks, mate,” Louis said, as he slipped past Zayn into the hall, wanting to avoid what could possibly be a long conversation, his main priority being to make Harry feel a little better. “I need to take this water to Harry,” he said, simply.

“Is he okay? What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he in class?” Zayn said, as he followed Louis down the hall.

“You ask a lot of questions, mate,” Louis smiled. “He hasn’t actually told me that much, to be honest. It looks like he had a bit of a big night out last night though so he’s just feeling the effects of that today.”

Zayn winced sympathetically as they reached Harry’s door.

“I don’t really understand why he’s started going out so much,” he said, “he used to hate that sort of thing.”

Louis shrugged. “As far as I know, he’s currently blaming Niall Horan? So it could be that.”

“Yeah, could be,” Zayn agreed, reaching out to push Harry’s door open, but Louis shot his hand out to stop him. Zayn looked down at Louis’ hand on his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Well, he’s probably sleeping,” Louis said, and then realised that Zayn probably had way more connections to Harry than Louis did, and that Louis really didn’t have any sort of claim on Harry, let go of Zayn’s arm. “I mean, sure, yeah, go for it.”

Zayn looked at him a little strangely, but then went ahead and pushed the door open, walking into the room.

Harry was still asleep on the bed, in the same position Louis had left him in, and Zayn chuckled a little as he approached the bed.

“Poor lad,” he said, reaching a hand out to brush the back of Harry’s hand, causing Harry’s fingers to twitch and an aborted whimper to fall from Harry’s mouth. “Babe? You awake?” he asked.

Harry mumbled something incoherent in response and Zayn laughed again.

“Babe, me and Louis are in here, yeah? Got you some water if you want it,” Zayn said. His voice had dropped to a softer tone than the one he had been using when he was speaking to Louis just moments before.

“The water was for the painkillers, actually,” Louis corrected, moving over to grab them. “But yeah they’re both here. You probably should take something.”

Harry groaned again but then let his arm fall from his face, which was now looking slightly sleep-puffy, but generally just relaxed, and not as pained as he had looked before in class. He sat himself up a little in bed, propping himself up against the pillows at the head of the bed.

“Thank you,” Harry said, smiling up at Louis and reaching out for the items he held. He quickly swallowed the pills, wincing as he swallowed, and then drunk a little bit more of the water.

“How are you feeling?” Zayn asked. “It’s not like you to miss lessons.”

Harry groaned. “I know, I just felt too awful. I’m okay now, though, thanks for looking after me. Both of you,” he looked between Louis and Zayn gratefully.

“So what happened last night?” Zayn asked patiently, but there was something in his expression that told Louis he was at least a little concerned about what had happened.

Harry’s eyes snapped down to his lap, and he took another long drink from the glass of water, before he shrugged. “Just had a night out. With Niall. It’s okay.” He attempted a smile, glancing up at them again. “I’m okay.”

There was something a little off in his tone, but he clearly didn’t want to explain himself, and Louis prayed that Zayn wouldn’t push him to answer. Luckily, Zayn dropped it.

“Alright, babe, well I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, patting Harry on the leg. “I’ve actually got to run now, I’ve got class in a little bit. But Louis can look after you, right?” He looked up at Louis for confirmation.

“Yeah, sure. I’m on the same course as Harry, so there’s nowhere I really need to be now.”

“Okay. Well I’ll come in and check on you this evening, okay, babe?” Zayn checked with Harry and when Harry nodded in reply, he dropped a quick kiss on his forehead and then left the room with a short wave in Louis’ direction. “Cheers, mate, see you around,” and then the door shut behind him and Louis and Harry were left alone in the room.

Harry looked up at Louis where he still stood near the end of the bed.

“You can sit down,” Harry said, gesturing at the expanse of bed where Zayn had just been sitting, and Louis perched on the edge of the bed gratefully.

They decided to pull up some old episodes of The Great British Bake Off, a show they both enjoyed, and watch them back to back to spend their afternoon off from uni. At some point in the day, Louis somehow managed to end up lying next to Harry on the bed as they watched, but neither of them commented on it and it didn’t feel weird at all, kind of felt really natural to do so, so Louis wasn’t complaining.

Somehow just being in Harry’s company, even a Harry who was clearly exhausted and had stated himself that he wouldn’t be the greatest company, was more than enough to make Louis happy. He felt a weird closeness with Harry, that he didn’t really get with anyone else. For example, he could not imagine spending a whole afternoon with anyone else in his friend group just lying in bed and watching countless episodes of a baking programme. He just wasn’t that sort of person when he was looking to socialize, but with Harry he couldn’t think of anything better, and one look at Harry’s face told Louis that he felt the same.

***

Louis received a text late at night on Wednesday, when he was lying in bed lazily flicking through his phone, and willing himself to get tired.

**Louuuuuuuu.**

_Well, hello, baker boy! :)_   
_You okay, love? What you doing up?_

**Where are Louuuuu?**

_Was that a typo or a really bad pun?_

**Heeeeey.**

Louis smiled at the screen, could practically hear Harry whining, pretending to be offended.  
  
 _Hahaha sorry. I’m at home, babe. What are you up to?_

**Drunk. A little bit.**   
  
_Oh dear. You safe? Who you with?_

**Don’t know.**

Louis frowned. That wasn’t the sort of answer he had hoped to receive.

_What do you mean you don’t know??_   
_Are you safe?_

**Oh, yeah. I think I’m safe. I don’t know who I’m with.**   
  
_What do you mean? Little confused, babe._   
  
**Don’t know her name.**

Louis’ eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that sort of answer either.

_Oh. Jeez, well alright, love. You stay safe, though, yeah?_

**Sorry.**   
**Yeah I’ll stay safe.**

_Don’t need to be sorry. You have a good night._

**Thanks Lou. You too.**   
  
_:)_

**I miss you.**

_Miss you too, love. See you tomorrow?_   
  
**If I can get out of bed.**   
  
_If not, text me, and I’ll come spend the day with you again._   
  
**Really?**

_Yeah, really, if you want. Promise. Go and have fun, baker boy._

**Thanks, Lou.**  
**xxxxxx**

_xxxx_  
  
Louis checked the time, and seeing that it had gone two o’clock in the morning, he winced and put his phone down, attempting to let sleep take over him.  
  
***

On Wednesday morning, when Louis arrived at university, the last thing he had been expecting was to walk into the room and hear Harry’s name being mentioned by a large group of people.

He attempted to subtly hang around near them, and from what he could make out they were claiming that he had been seen all over multiple girls the night before - which is when Harry had been texting Louis drunk, claiming he ‘didn’t know’ who he was with. Louis felt his heart sink a little, mainly just hoping that Harry was okay, and hadn’t been hurt in any way, but from what these girls were saying, he hadn’t come across as a very good person last night. Finding one girl, and then dropping them to be with another.

Louis slipped his phone out of his pocket and sent Harry a quick, _You okay? Are you coming in?_

Harry’s reply came through quickly.

**Only just woken up. GBBO time?**

Louis bit his lip, considering, but ultimately decided that Harry’s bed and good television just about won out over sitting around listening to Harry’s name get dragged through the mud.

_A man after my own heart. I’ll be there soon._

***

Louis hadn’t managed to get much information out of Harry about what had actually gone on that night, but Harry hadn’t seemed to be on the receiving end of any backlash or nasty comments when he returned to uni on Thursday, so Louis wasn’t too worried. He kind of just accepted that being flirtatious, and craving close intimacy was just a part of who Harry was, and there was nothing wrong with that as far as Louis could see.

They went out on a night out together, Louis, Harry, Niall, and a group of people from their halls, and Louis watched with a small smile on his face as Harry worked his charm on all the ladies, buying a few free drinks here and there, even getting a couple of drinks bought for him, half dancing half grinding on the packed club floor. Harry brought three separate women back to the table with him at various points throughout the evening, sat close by them, as they muttered to each other for a while before they were back up and on the dance floor.

“You deserve to have a good night as well. Can’t just be all about us, now, can it?” Niall grinned. “Let me go and round up the others, and then we’ll find somewhere, okay?”

Louis nodded, gratefully, and watched as Niall trotted off into the fray of people to try and find their friends.

***

Thirty minutes later and they were in one of Louis’ favourite clubs, he’d already been approached by two men wanting to take him home, or more likely to the toilets, which Louis had politely declined, feeling flattered all the same.

To start with, Harry stuck very close to Louis, following closely behind as they navigated the rooms, sitting very close by him when Louis found them a booth to sit in. Louis didn’t mind, quite liked the attention, and was already aware of how clingy Harry could get when he’d been drinking, how reliant on physical contact he became.

However, after another half hour or so, and a few more drinks, Harry disappeared into the crowd.

Louis stayed where he was, half attempting to catch a glimpse of the tall curly lad, and half admiring the view in general around him, but he ended up losing sight of Harry for quite a while.

He happened to catch sight of him again as he was being led into the toilets by a man Louis could only describe as physically stunning. He looked a little like Zayn actually, facial structure wise, but this lad had much shorter hair, almost completely shaven. Louis was well aware he was staring, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away as the man let go of Harry’s hand to open the door, holding it open to let Harry pass, and placing a hand dangerously low on the small of Harry’s back.

The door swung shut behind them and Louis’ head spun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> Quick warning for more alcohol usage in this chapter. Also, there is a little bit of het smut towards the end of this chapter - nothing explicit, but it is vaguely mentioned, so if that bothers you please skip over it, you can tell when it's coming.
> 
> ***

Harry had always known that he was interested in men, even if the full extent of his interest hadn’t become clear until he had gotten a little older. When all of his friends at school had been obsessing over girls, he had always played along, and acted as though he got the appeal, but he never truly did.

He had been in relationships with three different girls during his time in secondary school, and while he genuinely liked them as people and thought they were lovely girls, he had never really experienced that magical attraction that all of his friends were always telling him about. He had kissed them and enjoyed kissing them. He had even slept with a girl and although he wasn’t repulsed by it, he still didn’t really _get_ it. At the time, he kind of pegged that down to just not having found the right girl yet, still kind of believing that she would be out there waiting for him somewhere.

It was only once he started at sixth form that he realised he might actually identify as anything other than straight.

He found himself naturally acting in a very flirtatious manner with other men, and eventually one man had flirted back, and the rest was kind of history. Shortly after Harry’s big revelation, he got into a rather short lived - distance was a terrible thing - relationship with another guy. He hadn’t yet slept with another man, but he had swapped various sexual favours on multiple occasions with multiple different men, and it just felt right, natural.

However, despite being in a couple of same sex relationships since then, Harry had never really felt the need to ‘come out’ as such. A few of his friends knew, Zayn and Niall included, and his close family knew, purely because he had brought guys home with him with no preamble, just ‘oh yeah this is the person I’m dating now. I hope you approve.’, which, luckily, his family always did. It wasn’t that Harry ever felt insecure about his sexuality or anything, it was just something he never shared with anyone outright, not out of shame but because he never felt the need to.

It might have been because of this lack of ‘coming out’ experience, that Harry completely froze when he was approached by Louis Tomlinson on the topic.

“So…” Louis looked a little on edge, which immediately put Harry on edge as well. Harry might not have known Louis for very long, but he knew that Louis was a generally very confident and laid back person; he didn’t really care what anyone else thought about him, and tended to just say whatever was on his mind, consequences be damned. So his hesitation was already a little worrying for Harry.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, attempting to meet Louis’ eye, but Louis’ head was ducked down. “Lou?”

Louis cleared his throat, and then suddenly his head snapped up, meeting Harry’s eyes squarely. Harry forced himself to look right back, sure that his concern was written all over his face.

“I saw you and that lad the other night, going into the bathroom,” Louis said, voice even, and Harry’s eyes widened minutely. “Was that a one time thing? Or are you actually gay?”

Harry balked at Louis’ straightforwardness, straight to the point, no one had ever asked Harry outright like that.

Harry stared back into Louis’ eyes, his chest heaving, mind racing wildly trying to work out what to say. Trying to work out the words he needed to say.

Louis stared back, gaze not wavering as he looked into Harry’s eyes. It was a little intimidating.

“I - “ Harry began, voice coming out a little husky. He stopped, cleared his throat and tried again. “It - um - no.”

Louis’ eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

Harry winced at the harshness of Louis’ tone. Louis had never spoken to him like that, he had been nothing but kind to Harry since the first day they met. This whole situation was surreal, it was doing Harry’s head in a little bit. His heart was pounding somewhere in the region of his throat, threatening to choke him.

“I - um. Lou - “ Harry said, almost pleading with Louis to understand what he just couldn’t say.

“What, Harry?” Louis said, the same hard tone to his voice. “I want you to explain to me what I saw. Are you just messing around with someone or what? Are you gay?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Harry protested. “I wasn’t just messing around with him. I -”

“Harry,” Louis interrupted, voice firm. “I want you to tell me now. Are you gay?”

“Why do you want to know?” Harry asked instead of answering Louis’ question.

Louis sighed exasperatedly. “Because, Harry - “ Louis fixed his gaze on Harry again, eyes piercing. “I am gay, and I have been fucked around by straight guys in the past men who only want to hurt me, or use me; or guys who have simply treated me as though I was their little guinea pig. And, to be honest, I think I would lose a little bit of respect for you if that’s what you were doing with that guy back there.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, shocked at Louis’ sudden outburst, but also a little hurt at Louis’ words.

“If you would genuinely accuse me of something like that, then you really don’t know me at all,” Harry said, struggling to keep his voice even, his tone cutting. He stood up simply wanting to extract himself from the situation as quickly as possible, and started to make his way to his bedroom door. He turned at the last minute, looking straight at Louis, who was still sat cross-legged on Harry’s bed, staring after him. “Yes, Louis, I am gay. Contrary to what you apparently think, I am not an awful person, but thank you very much for that. You can show yourself out.”

And with that, Harry slipped out of his room, closing the door firmly behind him and leaving his building without a second look back.

***

Harry was very drunk, he’d gone way past the point of mildly intoxicated a long time ago, and now he was barely even coherent. He had left all of his belongings back at his room, leaving with only the clothes on his back and - luckily - his building key in his back pocket. He had no change on him, no phone, nothing. He had relied on other people at the pub he went to to provide him with alcohol, and they had definitely delivered.

Harry had lost track of how much alcohol he had consumed, and how many different people had supplied said alcohol for him, but he was having a good night all in all, the reasons for his drinking already long forgotten - or at least pushed right to the back of his mind, where he could choose to ignore them.

He had spent the last half hour sitting just outside the pub with a girl called Eleanor he had met up with who was also on the same course as him. They had spoken a few times during drama lessons, and ended up at the same club as each other a few times in the past. But that night she had been especially lovely to him. She was the one who had noticed when Harry was getting a little bit too drunk and she took him outside to get some fresh air. Since then, they had just been engaging in some semblance of a conversation, probably not saying anything of importance, but they were enjoying each others’ company.

They were sitting very close together, and Harry had noticed a while ago that Eleanor’s gaze kept slipping down to Harry’s lips as they talked. Apparently finally plucking up some courage, Eleanor suddenly shifted herself a little closer to Harry, one hand dropping down onto his thigh, and a mischievous little smile playing on her lips. Harry grinned back at her, ducking his head so he could meet her gaze. When their eyes met, Harry slowly and deliberately licked his lips, watching as Eleanor’s gaze dropped to follow the motion.

That was all Harry needed, and he shifted even closer still to Eleanor, placing one hand on the back of her neck and drawing her in for a long, slow kiss which Eleanor responded to immediately.

Harry lost track of how long they kissed for, kind of got a little bit lost in the kiss, however cliche that was. It was only when Eleanor started making little breathless noises in between kisses that Harry realised they couldn’t just sit outside in the cold all night.

He pulled back enough that he could see Eleanor properly, in the light coming from the pub.

“Do you want to go back inside?” he asked, voice a little raspy, probably still a little bit slurred.

Eleanor, however, didn’t take the bait. She just looked back at Harry, confused. “Inside? What, the pub?” she asked.

“Yeah, you know, the loo, or something?” That was Harry’s usual sequence of events as of late.

“The _loo_? Are you crazy?” Eleanor laughed.

Harry was too drunk to understand what was so funny, so he just shrugged. “Why? Where do you want to go?”

“Why don’t we go back to yours? Your campus is near here, isn’t it?”

Harry had told her earlier that he had just walked from his campus, so he couldn’t deny it. “Yeah, not too far. Want to walk or get a taxi?” he asked, standing up and stretching his limbs out unsteadily, losing his balance for a second and balancing himself against the wall of the pub.

“We can walk,” Eleanor said, rising to her feet and smoothing her - very short - dress down over her thighs.

“Let’s go, then,” Harry said, smiling at her and offering her his hand. She slipped her hand into his gratefully and they took off in the direction of Harry’s room.

***

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harry asked, voice wavering a little.

Eleanor chased his body upwards, arching her back to re-attach their lips. She pushed his unbuttoned shirt off his back, raking her nails down over the newly exposed skin, causing Harry to shiver under her touch.

“I’m more than sure, baby, you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” Eleanor said, voice breathy.

She pulled his body back down on top of hers, just their underwear now separating them from connecting bare intimate skin.

Harry’s heart was pounding out of his chest, he was sure she must be able to feel it through his skin, and his palms were a little too clammy, but he hoped Eleanor would just mark it all down to arousal.

“You’re gorgeous,” Harry murmured in response, burying his face in her neck and nibbling over the soft gently perfumed skin there, Eleanor’s hands gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him in place as her legs hooked up over his waist.

Harry took a deep shaky breath with his face still hidden in her neck and then drew back so he could see her face, smirk already plastered on his face.

“Let’s sort you out, then, love,” he said, shifting down the bed so he was between her legs, fingers pulling at the waistband of Eleanor’s knickers.

***

When Harry woke up on the morning after the night before, he was completely disorientated. He was lying in his own bed, but he was all squished up against the wall, his back half stuck to the wall behind him. That was strange enough, but there was also the fact that there was a head of soft hair stuffed under his chin, a warm weight pressing on his chest.

He took a few moments, trying to keep himself calm as he blinked himself fully awake, not letting himself panic.

Some time during this process, the whole series of events came rushing back to him. The confrontation with Louis, storming out of his room and leaving Louis behind, arriving at the pub and drinking way too much alcohol, sitting outside with Eleanor, kissing Eleanor, bringing Eleanor back. _Sleeping_ _with_ Eleanor.

Harry felt sick, his breathing was coming out too shallowly, his heart beating too hard in his chest. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, dislodging the still sleeping Eleanor.

“Sorry,” he muttered, as he slid out of bed. A quick glance down at his body showed him that he was completely naked, which wasn’t really a shock as Harry usually preferred to sleep naked, but it just brought the whole story home for Harry, made it all too real.

He staggered into the bathroom and slid the lock across the door firmly, leaning back against the door and trying to regulate his breathing.

Harry had slept with a girl last night, had slept with Eleanor last night.

Harry had fucked up.

He splashed some cold water on his face and tried to prepare himself to go back into the room, to face her.

He cracked the bathroom door open as quietly as he could, and saw that Eleanor was still lying in his bed facing away from the door. He snuck into the room and quickly bent to rummage through his drawers, pulling out some boxers so he wouldn’t feel so exposed.

He quickly pulled them on and when he turned back around again, Eleanor was turning over onto her back. She smiling lazily up at him as she stretched luxuriously on the bed.

“Morning, babe,” she said, voice slightly husky with sleep.

Harry did not know how to do this. He had no experience whatsoever with how to deal with this situation, having only slept with one girl in his life - and that had ended with a mutual discussion of ‘yeah, this probably isn’t going to happen again, but thank you’. Simple.

“Morning,” he replied, offering a weak smile in return.

Eleanor sat up in bed and Harry was grateful that she pulled the duvet up with her as she did so, clutching it to her bare chest; neither of them deserved to feel vulnerable right now.

Harry floundered a little, still stood awkwardly by the bed.

“Are you okay? Is your head okay?” he settled on, lamely.

Eleanor grimaced a little, touching a hand to her head. “Been better, been worse,” she replied before breaking into a smile. “Last night was good.”

Okay, they were just going to dive straight in, then. Okay.

“Yeah?” Harry said, non-committally. “You had a good time?”

“I had a _great_ time, babe,” Eleanor grinned suggestively. “Would even be up for a round two, if you like.” She started toying with the duvet that was covering her modesty, lifting it in what she probably thought was a suggestive manner. Frankly, it just made Harry feel sick.

“I don’t think - “ Harry paused, Eleanor’s face had already hardened a little at just those words. “I don’t think we can do this again,” he said apologetically, the pure guilt running through his veins making him feel absolutely awful. This wasn't who Harry was, he didn't _do_ this. Eleanor stared up at him, eyes cold. “I’m sorry,” he continued as the silence stretched on. “You’re a great girl, you really are, but last night probably shouldn’t have happened. And you probably deserve a lot better than me.”

“Oh, do me a favour,” Eleanor scoffed. “Spare me the speech, Styles.”

She swung her legs out of bed and Harry awkwardly turned away as she scooped up her clothes from around the small room, tugging them on, frustration written in every movement she made.

“I really am sorry,” Harry ventured.

“Good,” Eleanor said shortly, snatching up her small bag from the desk chair next to Harry.

Harry turned to face her again, taken aback a little by the anger he saw radiating off of Eleanor as she glared at him.

“You know what, Harry? You're right. I do deserve better than you. You’re nothing but a user, I’m so fucking sick of guys like you,” Eleanor spat, as she moved towards the door.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Harry said softly. “I’m truly sorry.”

“Go fuck yourself,” was all Eleanor said as she yanked the door open, and Harry was left staring at the door as it slammed shut behind her.

He sunk onto the recently vacated desk chair, head in his hands, and despite how awful that whole conversation had been, he couldn’t help but be reminded of just how eerily similar Eleanor’s exit had been to the one he had performed the night before.

The very same exit that had started all of this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** 
> 
> WARNINGS
> 
> I said from the start this story was going to get quite dark, and sadly this is where that begins.   
> Main warnings for this chapter are for emotional manipulation, and there is more alcohol/drug use towards the end.
> 
> Also at the end there is a scene which could be perceived as alluding to rape, or non-con. There is nothing graphic, and this is not explicitly mentioned, but it's definitely written abstractly enough that the reader could see this as a rape situation. Please just be careful. 
> 
> I would also like to state again that the way Nick's character is portrayed in this story is not in any way true to who he really is at all. I do not believe Nick is like this in real life! 
> 
> ***

When Louis walked into his drama lesson on Monday morning, he slightly hated himself for the way his eyes immediately sought out and settled on a certain Harry Styles, who was sitting in his usual seat, head bowed.

Louis’ heart lurched uncomfortably at the sight of him, thinking back on their last conversation in which Louis had basically accused Harry of being a terrible person, when the truth was he couldn’t be much further from a terrible person if he was actively trying his hardest to be. He was just a good guy, through and through, and Louis knew that for a fact.

After their conversation, Louis had found himself knocking on Zayn’s bedroom door, hoping that Zayn hadn’t actually heard anything that was said between the two of them. What had actually happened, though, was Zayn had opened the door with a look of pure concern on his face and when he had seen Louis standing there his face had hardened in front of Louis’ eyes and he had moved to shut the door in Louis’ face without a second thought.

Louis had eventually convinced Zayn to let him in, though, and had basically talked through the whole situation with him. So, it was Zayn who told Louis that Harry did, in fact, identify as gay. After the awkwardness had somewhat passed, Louis had actually ended up having a good time with Zayn. They had stayed together in Zayn’s room for most of the night, drinking and listening to music and just generally talking. Louis only left when he caught sight of the time and realised how late it was getting, having lost all track of time, and that was his cue to get home.

Zayn was a genuinely nice guy, and he seemed to think the absolute world of Harry; their conversation had steered to Harry on multiple occasions and Zayn seemed to have nothing but kind words to say about him. Louis instantly trusted Zayn’s judgement, and he trusted Harry, completely.

Louis had really missed Harry’s company over the weekend, had even toyed with the idea of paying a visit to the bakery just to be able to see Harry’s face again, but he ultimately decided against it. He didn’t want to talk to Harry in an environment where Harry wouldn’t have the opportunity to walk away if he needed to. Louis didn’t want to put him in that position, it wouldn’t be fair on Harry. Louis knew they had to be on even ground.

He wasn’t going to stop himself from approaching Harry in class, though. He wanted to at least _try_ and mend what he had broken, it was the least he could do. He was already on his way over to Harry’s bent figure, when he was stopped by someone suddenly grabbing hold of his arm.

He turned round to see who it was and was met with the sight of Eleanor standing very closely behind him, looking as though she had just been crying, or was just about to burst into tears, one of the two.

“El? What’s wrong?” Louis asked, turning to face her completely, and half-steering her out of the classroom.

He instinctively felt someone’s eyes burning into his back on the way, and turned around as he reached the door just in time to see Harry’s own tear filled eyes quickly flicking away from where they had been trained on Louis and Eleanor.

Louis’ eyes widened in shock. He was suddenly completely torn about what to do, in two minds. Eleanor was one of his closest friends; he had met her through Nick when he had first gotten into his tentative relationship with him, and they had stuck together through thick and thin ever since then. But the fact was that Harry was visibly upset, and his upset could potentially have been Louis’ fault.

“I have to talk to you,” Eleanor said, voice shaky with tears, and Louis finally tore his gaze away from Harry, who had folded back in on himself, staring down at his desk, face hidden by a thick curtain of hair.

“Yeah, alright,” Louis decided, guiding her out of the room.

They walked out of the drama building and across campus in silence for a few moments, until Louis stopped Eleanor again.

“Where are we actually going?” he asked, gently, genuinely more than a little confused with what was going on.

“Can’t we just go back to yours? I can’t be in that room right now,” Eleanor said, eyes blazing with tears threatening to fall.

“Yeah, of course we can,” Louis reassured her. “Let me just text Nick quickly and let him know we’re coming.”

As Louis did that, Eleanor slipped her arm into his and they walked the rest of the distance to the bus stop in silence.

Nick replied while they were on the bus, letting him know he was on his way back from work, and that of course it was okay for Eleanor to come back.

Eleanor was cuddled into Louis, her head resting on his shoulder, breathing slowly and shakily. Louis absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair, trying to comfort her even though he had no idea what was going on, couldn’t even take a guess.

***

As Eleanor’s story unfolded over a cup of tea and a lot of tears, Louis’ eyes gradually grew wider and wider, more and more confused. His brow furrowed, completely not understanding what Eleanor was saying. Completely not _wanting_ to understand what Eleanor was saying.

The way Eleanor told it, Harry had gone straight from his conversation with Louis that night, and proceeded to get very drunk at a pub where Eleanor had bought all of his drinks for him; ‘out of the kindness of my heart’. Harry had been very upset when he had arrived and Eleanor had just been trying her best to make him feel better, and trying to make him forget whatever had happened so he would get to the point of just having a good night instead.

As the night progressed, however, Harry had turned the charm on, and kissed her outside the pub, tried to touch her inappropriately and then tried to get her to go into the toilets with him, which Eleanor had turned down.

Harry had gone on to take Eleanor back to his room. This was the same room Louis had visited him in earlier that day, the room right next door to where Louis had spent the majority of his night. Louis’ stomach turned. What if he had been in there when that happened? Could he have stopped it? The fact of the matter was, he definitely could have prevented the whole thing from happening in the first place. Harry proceeded to strip her off, kissing her and smooth talking the whole time.

Eleanor admitted that she had wanted to sleep with Harry, and they had gone on to do just that, having sex in Harry’s bed and then falling asleep comfortably in each other’s arms.

Eleanor’s tears had started falling thicker and faster at this point, and Nick had pulled her in close to him, dropping a kiss to the top of her head and telling her to take her time, all while Louis simply stared at her, trying to comprehend what she was saying.

“Just breathe, babe,” Nick said soothingly. “Do you want another cup of tea?”

Eleanor shook her head, a few more tears slipping down her cheeks. She reached for a tissue and dabbed delicately at her face. “He broke my heart,” she said, and then her tone changed, hardening. “He’s a fucking bastard, that Harry Styles, he really fucking is.”

“Shh, I’m sure he is,” Nick cooed, and Louis almost jumped in to defend Harry, even opened his mouth to do so, but managed to refrain from speaking. “Tell us what happened, babe. What did the bastard do?”

“Okay,” Eleanor took a deep breath. “I woke up the next morning, in his bed, naked, and he wasn’t even there any more, wasn’t even next to me. So I kind of assumed straight away that he’d just, like, done a runner or something. But I was just laying there, and I heard his bathroom door open, so I was, like, ‘okay, it isn’t that bad. He’s still here, it’s fine.’”

Eleanor took a long sip of her tea, looking over the rim of the mug at Louis, who stared blankly back.

“I sat up to look at him, to - I don’t know - look back on the night before, to remember what had happened, maybe go again, whatever - “ Eleanor’s eyes welled up again with fresh tears that quickly toppled down her cheeks.

She took a few seconds to compose herself and then continued telling her story.

“I could see straight away, just looking in his eyes, that something had gone wrong. But I honestly thought it was something personal, like I thought he had gotten some bad news or something. I really believed the things he was saying the night before, so, like, I had no reason to think he was pissed off because of that. But - “ Eleanor took a deep shaky breath. “But, clearly he was.” Her words trailed off into a string of loud sobs as she buried her face in Nick’s shoulder.

Louis wouldn’t admit it but all he really wanted to do in that moment was pull his phone out and check in with Harry.

Harry had been really upset when he had met Louis’ eyes for that brief second earlier that morning, Louis was sure that something more had gone on than what Eleanor was telling them.

Louis finally couldn’t take listening to Eleanor’s crying any longer, and he politely excused himself from the room. He took himself off into their ensuite bathroom and locked himself in, phone already in his hand and the messaging app open, waiting for his words. He settled on keeping the message quick and simple, wanting to coax a reply out of Harry.

_Hey, babe. Are you okay?_

He sat down on the closed toilet seat, toying with his phone as he waited for a reply to come through.

He couldn’t hear any noises in the rest of the flat from in the bathroom, so it was almost as though this whole crazy morning hadn’t even happened, Louis could almost trick himself into believing he had rewound to the beginning of the day. He liked the idea of being able to give himself a fresh start to the day, and decided that talking to Harry was the perfect fresh start.

He felt himself growing more and more relaxed as he sat in the quiet bathroom, phone in hand, looking down at his and Harry’s messages.

After a few more minutes with no response from Harry had passed, Louis decided to scroll through all of their messages right from the very beginning, so he sat there in the bathroom, smiling at all of their conversations. Their late night drunken conversations, their early morning sleepy conversations, mundane things they’d send each other when Harry was at work and saw something cute he wanted to share with Louis, or when Louis saw something funny on his laptop or on television and just had to send it to Harry immediately; all of them now bringing a soppy little smile to Louis’ face.

He had nearly reached the newest text messages again, when his phone buzzed in his hand, refreshing the app.

**Was that meant for me?**

 

Louis frowned at his phone, immediately typing out his response, not caring how eager he seemed.

_Yes it was meant for you. Are you okay?_

Harry's next response came through a little quicker.

**I’ve been better, Lou. How are you?**

Louis smiled involuntarily at the nickname, thumbing out another reply.

_Do you want to talk about it? I'm okay, bit worried about you tho._

**Worried about me? Why?  
Would love to talk if you're free though...**

_You were sad earlier weren’t you? And I treated you pretty badly last time we spoke. I feel bad. Wanna apologise at least. Are you still at uni?_

Louis stood up from the toilet seat, still engrossed in his phone, and wandered back into the living room where he'd left his jacket and shoes.  
  


Louis was too busy reading through Harry’s reply - **You don’t need to apologise. Was just miscommunications, I think? But we do need to talk. I’m still on campus, but out of lessons. Couldn’t hack it.** \- to pay any attention to what Eleanor and Nick were talking about on the sofa, but he tuned back in when he heard Nick say Harry’s name.

“Well, we can invite Harry tonight, he seems like the type who likes to socialize so I doubt he’d turn down a night out, and we’ll see what happens. Play it by ear, yeah?”

“What are you two talking about?” Louis asked, instantly suspicious. He recognised the tone of Nick’s voice, and it wasn’t a good sign.

Eleanor smiled a little, and Louis noticed that her eyes were now completely dry. In fact, the look in her eyes now was a little frightening, any hurt that had been there before completely masked by pure hatred now.

It was Nick who replied to Louis though. “We’re going to try and teach that Styles kid a little bit of a lesson.”

He said it so matter of factly that Louis assumed he must have heard him wrong. “Sorry, what?”

“We’re going to teach Harry a lesson. He can’t treat women like that. Especially not our El, it’s not right,” Nick reiterated.

“A _lesson_? What are you talking about? What are you going to do to him exactly?” Louis asked, voice rising. “You know, he’s not actually a bad person,” Louis tried to defend.

“He’s not a bad person? He broke my fucking heart, Louis,” Eleanor exclaimed. “He can’t just get away with that! Why should I be sitting here feeling like shit while he’s completely fine, probably sitting somewhere laughing at me with all his mates!”

“Exactly,” Nick interjected. “We’re simply going to do to him what he did to Eleanor.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Louis said softly, and he felt his phone buzz in his hand but refrained from looking down, instead meeting Nick’s eyes. “Please don’t hurt him.”

Nick looked a little confused for a second, but then his face broke into a smile. “It’s just a game, Louis. It’s always just a game, remember?”

***

Louis had seen Nick do this sort of thing in the past. It had always been a game back then as well, always ‘ _just a game_ ’. He had fucked around with people in the past because he’d deemed them to be in the wrong about something, he also targeted closeted guys, with the aim solely being to out them when they weren’t ready yet. That was what always cut Louis the most, because he had been in those guys’ shoes before, had been in that place of coming to terms with who he was, but still not ready to announce it to the world. He couldn’t even begin to imagine going through what those boys did, being outed by someone else, by someone who they had been led to believe had cared about them.

But at the time Louis had always just sat back and watched as Nick had broken multiple younger boy’s hearts, torn their worlds apart like it was easy. It had alway just been a part of who Nick was, he’d been doing it long before he met Louis, and he hadn’t stopped since.

Louis knew exactly what Nick was capable of doing, and that honestly scared him.

***

When Louis walked into the university’s canteen, his eyes once again fell on Harry immediately; it was slightly unsettling how quickly he could spot him in a room full of people.

He made his way over to him, tucking his phone into his pocket as he went, knowing he wouldn’t be needing to communicate with anyone else for a while.

“Hey!” he said when he was within earshot, and Harry’s head snapped up from where he’d been fiddling about on his phone.

He looked into Louis’ eyes for a few moment before a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Hey,” he said back softly, and then gestured at the seat opposite him. “Do you want to sit down?”

Louis didn’t move, keeping a close eye on Harry. He still didn’t look right. He didn’t look Harry enough.

“Don’t you want to go somewhere a little quieter? Classes are finished for the day. You might as well go back to your room,” Louis said, wanting to be able to talk to Harry freely as opposed to surrounded by people as they were now.

Harry’s eyes flicked back up to meet Louis’. “Um - I kind of don’t want to go back to mine, no. Not right now. Sorry,” he said. He was speaking very softly, Louis had to strain to hear him properly.

“Well, you don’t want to stay here, love. Do you want to come back to mine for a bit? I just want to talk to you, Harry,” Louis said, keeping his own voice soft.

“If you want me to come back with you?” Harry answered, and in response Louis held out his arm for Harry to take, no words needed. Harry took the hint after a moment and grabbed on, rising to his feet. “Thanks,” he said, as they made their way back out of the canteen.

“No problem. Are you okay, though? Like, generally?” Louis asked.

Harry hummed as though he was thinking about the question. “Generally, yeah,” he said after a moment, but he didn’t sound particularly convincing.

Louis was about to guide them out of the university grounds, but Harry stopped him.

“I can drive us over to yours if you want? My car’s here and I don’t really like leaving it behind, anyway,” Harry said, and Louis agreed readily, his current priority was making Harry happy so he wasn’t going to deny him anything. Harry smiled gratefully and they located his car in the car park.

Louis gave Harry his address and they drove in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, something Louis wasn’t really familiar with. Usually, he would be babbling and trying to fill the silence with any old nonsense, but he didn’t feel the need to with Harry there. It was nice, almost relaxing.

They pulled into a vacant parking space and Louis led the way to his flat, praying that Eleanor at least would have left. He was cursing himself a little for the fact that he hadn’t thought to text Nick on the way over, but it was too late now, there was no way Louis could make up an excuse since they were already there.

Louis unlocked the door and paused briefly, listening for any noises. He could still hear voices in the living room and he cursed under his breath.

“Let’s just go straight through to my room, yeah?” Louis muttered to Harry, and if Harry found anything strange about that he didn’t comment, simply following Louis through the small flat until they reached the bedroom.

Once inside, Harry shamelessly looked around the room, but Louis didn’t blame him. He’d done the same when he’d first visited Harry’s, it was almost a natural instinct. Louis found himself glancing around the room as well, as if he was seeing it through Harry’s eyes. Most of the stuff littered around was Nick’s, there really weren’t very many of Louis’ personal touches in this room at all.

It was Nick’s CDs and records that filled up the small shelving unit they had in the room, just a few of Louis’ uni books crammed together in one corner. It was Nick’s clothes that lay on top of the chest of drawers, while Louis’ clothes were all tucked away within one drawer in the unit. And the posters that were hanging on the walls were all Nick’s choices, too. Louis liked the decorations, a lot, actually, but they still hadn’t been his decision.

Louis knew that it was a similar story in the bathroom as well, Nick’s products were scattered all over the counters, Nick’s shower gel and shampoo were prominent in the shower, Nick had picked out the towels - the threadbare towels that Louis wanted so desperately to replace - and there were none of Louis’ things to be seen.

Louis had never really noticed or cared about any of this before, but looking around now it was a little strange. It was almost as though he was on a very long extended sleepover with a friend, not helping to pay rent for someone he’d lived with for months now.

When Louis had finished looking around the room, he turned to check what Harry was up to and saw that Harry was already looking back at him. He smiled a little sheepishly and straightened up the duvet a little just to have something to do. He motioned for Harry to sit down, and he did so, perching gingerly on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap, head down.

Louis had no such reservations, sprawling out on his side of the bed, one foot resting in Harry’s lap. Harry looked over at him, that small smile playing on his lips again - or still, Louis didn’t really know.

Louis grinned back, nudging Harry’s thigh with his toes. “So, Mr baker boy,” he began, and felt a rush of satisfaction when Harry’s smile grew minutely in response, “are you okay? Honestly?”

Harry’s smile fell a little, and Louis cursed himself, but he was determined to reconcile their friendship, and to find out what was bothering Harry - this usually bright and full of life person - so much. Louis hadn’t known him long but he had very rarely seen him without a smile on his face, and his dimple firmly in place.

Harry broke Louis’ gaze, head bowing again as he studied his hands in his lap.

“Not really,” he said, words coming out slowly, voice so beautifully honest. “I made a bit of a mistake, and it’s been… eating me up ever since.”

Louis winced, he was pretty sure he knew exactly what Harry was talking about, but he was unsure how much he should let on to Harry. He wanted to make sure he got both sides of the story equally.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Louis asked carefully, watching Harry for any sort of reaction.

Harry took a deep breath and turned to face Louis again, his eyes were swimming with unshed tears and Louis didn’t even think twice before leaping up from his position and wrapping Harry in a hug, cradling him close to his chest.

“Hey, hey,” Louis murmured. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m here for you, though, okay?”

There was silence except for the sounds of Harry’s unsteady breathing for a few moments, and then Harry sniffed in, loudly.

“I am gay,” he said, pulling back enough to look into Louis’ eyes. “I’m gay. I’ve known for a long time that I was gay, but I - “

Louis’ heart jolted. All at once, everything fell into place, and all he could do was hold Harry closer. He could physically feel Harry shaking in his arms.

“I slept with a girl,” Harry’s voice came out broken. “She was the second girl I’ve ever slept with, and I just wanted to clarify in my head who I was. Our conversation - mine and yours, I mean - it made me want to know for sure that I was who I said I was. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t that awful person you thought I was. I wanted to have been able to tell you the truth. That I was gay. That I _am_ gay. But it went too far.” Harry spoke haltingly, and finally broke off to sob into Louis’ shoulder. Louis rubbed Harry’s back soothingly.

“Let it out, babe, it’s okay,” Louis spoke softly.

Louis let them stay in silence for a little while, periodically rubbing Harry’s back or stroking a hand through his hair, and he was just opening his mouth to start attempting to console Harry - to try to put this broken boy back together - when the bedroom door swung open.

“What’s going on in here, then?” Nick asked. His voice was laced with concern but there was a big grin on his face that instantly put Louis on edge.

Harry twitched in Louis’ grip almost as though he’d thought about moving away but decided not to, instead pressing a little tighter into Louis’ body.

“Is everything okay?” Nick asked, approaching the pair on the bed.

_Obviously fucking not_ , Louis thought, but remained silent. He was worried about what Nick was about to do, if he was about to set his little plan into action already. Louis didn’t know what he would be able to do if that’s what Nick was intending.

“Anything I can do?” Nick tried again, still getting no replies from either of them.

“No, thank you, Nick,” Louis said, trying to warn Nick away with his tone but at the same time not wanting to say too much in front of Harry.

But Nick ignored Louis, aside from shooting him a quick knowing smirk, as he dropped down to kneel on the floor, crouched in front of Harry.

“Are you okay, babe?” he asked, voice sickeningly sweet. “I’m Nick, and you are?”

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, voice a little muffled in Louis’ shoulder before he pulled away scrubbing at his face with a sleeve. “Sorry, not looking my best right now. It’s nice to meet you.”

Nick smiled up at Harry. “Not to worry, love. You look fine, actually. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Um. Bit of a long story,” Harry said, evasively, damp sleeve lowering to rest on his lap as he shifted a little more away from Louis. Louis kept his arm loosely around Harry’s shoulder though, not willing to let him go completely just yet.

“To be honest, love, and don’t take this the wrong way,” Nick said, “you look like you could use a drink.”

“What kind of drink are you talking? Like, tea? Or alcohol?” Harry said, voice still a little warped, thick with tears.

Nick huffed a laugh, and Louis pulled Harry a little closer to his body again.

“I was thinking tea, babe,” Nick said, which was a total blatant lie. “But if you’re looking for alcohol, I can provide that as well.”

“Something alcoholic would be great right now, yeah,” Harry said, glancing over at Louis who tried to smile back at him encouragingly. “Lou? Are you going to join?”

“Yeah, babe,” Louis said immediately, not even beginning to entertain the idea of leaving Harry alone with Nick and alcoholic beverages.

Nick smiled fakely back at Louis. “Great, love, let’s make a night of it, then,” Nick said, patting Harry’s thigh as he stood back up again. “We can even go down to the pub, if you like?” he asked, and when Harry nodded his smile grew even wider. “Great! Just going to pop in the shower quickly, if you don’t mind.”

“Course,” Harry said, and then with another huge smile back at them, Nick disappeared into the bathroom, the lock clicking shut on the other side of the door.

“You don’t have to go out if you don’t want to, babe,” Louis was quick to assure Harry, not wanting him to feel forced into anything, not really wanting him to go along with Nick’s little plan in the first place.

“I do want to,” Harry said, smiling at Louis. “I’m not going to get proper drunk, but I think a little bit of alcohol in my system might make me feel better, yeah. So, who is he? He was in the bakery with you when we first met, right?”

Louis frowned at Harry in confusion, taken aback by his question, before remembering. “Oh, yeah! He was, that’s right. God, you’ve got a good memory!”

“I knew I recognised him,” Harry said, sounding proud of himself. “So, do you have any drink in the flat?”

“You’re eager,” Louis teased. “We do, though, yeah. Let’s get you something to drink, then.”

***

Louis left Harry in the living room - Eleanor was gone, and Louis couldn’t see any sign of her anywhere in the flat so he figured it was safe - with a pint of beer, got him settled on the sofa and made sure he was feeling a little better.

Once he was satisfied, he excused himself, and went back through to the bedroom, shutting the door quietly but firmly behind him. He sat himself down on the bed and waited.

He wasn’t waiting long before the bathroom door swung open and Nick stood in the doorway with a towel around his hips. He smirked at Louis when he noticed him sitting there.

“Hello, princess,” he said, moving over to the chest of drawers, and bending to rummage through his clothes.

“Nick,” Louis said, standing up from the bed. He kept his voice low but firm, tried to convey in his tone that he was serious. “Nick, you can’t do this.”

“What can’t I do, babe?” Nick asked, voice the picture of innocence.

“Don’t do _this_. Whatever this stupid plan is that the two of you have thought up. He doesn’t deserve that, he really doesn’t,” Louis tried his hardest to persuade him. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s okay, he’s not a bad person, honestly.”

Nick turned and smiled at Louis. “Louis, he broke one of our best friend’s hearts, yeah? He can’t just get away with that. We’re not going to do anything to him that he didn’t do to her.”

“What does that mean, though?”

“He seduced her, got her drunk, fucked her, broke her heart, in whatever order that happened; I don’t know, the details are hazy. So, the details are going to be even hazier here. Who gives a fuck what order they happen in, as long as they all happen,” Nick was speaking so calmly, as if what he was discussing was completely normal, and not some sick plan to attempt to break someone.

“Nick, please don’t do this. You really don’t need to. It’s awful that this turned out the way it did with Eleanor, but it wasn’t intentional and he doesn’t deserve this. Don’t hurt him.” Louis tried one more time to dissuade Nick from his master scheme, but all he got in return was a casual shrug.

“We’ll see what happens tonight, babe, that’s all I’m going to say.”

And that was all Louis got out of him, the conversation was over as far as Nick was concerned, and Louis didn’t want to leave Harry alone any longer so he left the bedroom, hands shaking a little with anger, trying to compose himself before he faced Harry.

Harry, who had no idea what was about to happen to him.

***

Harry had texted Niall on the way to the pub, and Niall had turned up with a bunch of guys who apparently all knew Harry. The sight of them all hugging Harry and slapping him on the back put Louis’ mind at ease a little bit, the knowledge that he did have other people who could look out for him and care for him, and knowing that Harry was now going to be surrounded by a bunch of his friends who could hopefully protect him against Nick, it all just calmed Louis down enough to relax.

A few drinks later, and Louis was completely carefree. He was sat in the middle of a booth with a few of his friends around him who had also joined them on their spontaneous night out, including his flatmate Liam, who was sat next to Louis. They were engaged in a conversation about Zayn, talking about his and Liam’s relationship, how they had met, all that fun stuff.

Louis couldn’t stop his gaze from straying over to Harry every few minutes, though, keeping an eye on him. He was sat at one edge of the booth, and he was perched on Nick’s knee. Nick had a hand curled possessively around Harry’s hip, holding him there. Harry was loose-limbed and giggly, face a little flushed, and he looked so happy that Louis didn’t let himself get concerned about his closeness with Nick.

He caught Harry’s eye across the table and they grinned at each other for a second, before Nick leaned up and whispered something into Harry’s ear that caused Harry to blush and look away from Louis, turning his attention to Nick fully.

Nick patted Harry’s hip a few times and Harry shakily stood up, quickly downing the rest of his drink.

Nick leaned over Louis and said something to Liam that Louis couldn’t catch before turning and scooping Harry into his body with an arm around his waist, and the pair walked away without another look back.

Louis kept his eye on them as they went over to the bar and both ordered more drinks, but then the floor between them got too crowded, and more drinks arrived at their table, and Louis just lost track completely.

***

It was only once Nick had turned up at their table again, when it was considerably emptier than it had been earlier on, and asked Louis to get a taxi a few hours later that Louis realised with a jolt that he hadn’t seen Harry since they had walked off.

Louis helped Niall get outside and they managed to grab a taxi, slipping into their seats facing each other, and telling the driver to wait a few minutes for their mates.

Louis fumbled with his seatbelt, eventually managing to click it together, and settled back into his seat, his head a little unsteady but still reasonably aware of his surroundings.

The car door opened again with a burst of noise and Nick and Liam started manoeuvring their way into the car, their movements made difficult by the fact they were supporting a seemingly unconscious body between them, limbs loose and floppy, head down.

Louis’ stomach instantly turned, and he couldn’t blame it entirely on all the alcohol he had consumed.

As Nick ducked into the car and took his seat next to Niall, still gripping onto the unconscious guy’s arm, Louis asked, “What the hell is this?” at the same time as Niall slurred, “What’s going on here, then?”

Nick flashed the pair a sickening grin as he gave the body a final yank into the car, pushing him down into the seat next to Louis where he lolled heavily against Louis’ shoulder.

“This is _the_ Harry Styles,” Nick announced, slurring his words, as Liam climbed into the car and sat down on the other side of Harry. “A completely wankered and off-his-head Harry Styles.”

Louis balked, staring down at the head on his shoulder in pure disbelief. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked slowly, meeting Nick’s eyes as best he could with a hard stare.

“Just having a bit of fun,” Nick replied, looking Louis straight in the eyes. “It’s just a game, babe.”

The taxi pulled away from the kerb and Harry slumped heavily against Louis with the motion. Louis instinctively shot his arm out to act as a makeshift seat belt for him, even now his main priority being to protect Harry from harm.

“Nick, what the _fuck_ are you doing? You’re, what, bringing him back to ours? To _our_ room? Seriously?” Louis snapped, anger coursing through him.

“That’s right. His car’s there, isn’t it, and he can’t drive anyway, not like this. So I thought I’d let him crash in my bed,” Nick slurred.

“In _our_ bed,” Louis corrected. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Do whatever you like, hun, I don’t really care,” Nick said, and Louis’ eyes narrowed.

“Don’t fucking do this, Nick. I’m serious. Don’t you dare fucking do anything to him.”

“What’s this? What’s going on?” Niall asked, innocently, beside Louis.

“I’m just being a considerate person and letting Harry sleep at mine tonight,” Nick addressed him, completely ignoring Louis’ comments. “He’s over the limit, and his car’s at mine and he told me earlier he didn’t like leaving it behind anywhere, so it’s really the best thing to do, right?”

Harry had told Louis that a few times in the past as well, so he knew Nick wasn’t lying, but he also knew exactly what Nick was up to.

The car was pulling up to their flat now, and Louis had no idea what to do. He tried one more time to get through to Nick.

“Nick. Listen to me. Please do not do _anything_ to him, okay? If you’re going to get him in there, just let him sleep, yeah? Don’t fucking touch him, and don’t you dare fucking hurt him.”

“Aww, are you not coming in to join in?” Nick laughed.

“No, I’m not, don’t be sick,” Louis snapped. “Is it okay if I come back with you?” he asked Niall. Niall nodded in response, looking very drunk and very confused. “Thanks,” he muttered, and then turned his full attention to Harry, pulling him up from where he had slid down the seat a little way and holding him close.

He buried his face in his neck, hoping it looked casual enough that Nick wouldn’t pull him away, and started speaking low and fast, hoping at least some of his words would make their way through whatever stupor Harry was in.

“Harry, you be safe, okay?” Louis muttered into Harry’s ear urgently, as quietly as he could get away with. He had no idea if Harry could even hear or understand anything that was currently going on around him, but Louis had to at least try. “Please, please, please, just be careful. Don’t do anything at all that you don’t feel comfortable with, okay? Keep your phone on you, don’t let it out of your sight. Text me or call me straight away if you need me, I don’t care what time it is. If you need me, give me a call or text me and I’ll be here.” Louis’ voice broke embarrassingly. “Please just stay safe.”

Louis couldn’t let himself look as Nick hauled Harry up from his seat, pulling him away from Louis’ arms.

He saw Harry stagger out of the corner of his eye, and then the car door slammed shut and it was just Niall and Louis left in the car.

And Louis’ huge sense of shame.

The drive the rest of the way to the campus was doused in complete silence, Louis sat still, completely racked with guilt, his mind going absolutely crazy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> So this is where things get even darker, I'm sorry!  
> Warnings in this chapter, for alcohol and drug use.
> 
> MAJOR WARNING for dub-con towards the end (also technically smut, if that makes anyone uncomfortable). You can tell when it's coming so if you want to skip the chapter after that point then please do. I don't want anyone to feel triggered reading this so please be careful.
> 
> ***

_What of the dollar you murdered for, is that the -_

"Shit."

Silence.

"Sorry."

More silence, and then the bed dipped, causing Harry’s whole world to tilt and sway alarmingly. He fisted his hands into the sheets to stop himself from falling right off.

The movements thankfully ceased, and a door shut very loudly not far off.

That sudden explosion of noise was followed by more blissful silence, allowing Harry to drift back into a peaceful sleep.

***

Harry woke up to harsh sunlight pouring through the large window, effectively leaving Harry blinded. He squeezed his eyes tight shut and burrowed his head under the duvet, his head pounding in his dark cave.

He considered falling back asleep but then realised he didn’t even know what the time was, or what day it was for that matter, and considering it was so bright outside it had to be time to at least think about waking up.

Bracing himself for the light, he slowly pushed the duvet down, blinking slowly. When his eyes finally adjusted, the fogginess clearing, and the room around him coming into focus, he frowned in confusion, eyes widening.

Where the hell was he?

He vaguely recognised the room he was in, but he couldn’t place where from.

How had he gotten here?

The room was a bit of a mess, the bed Harry was laying in taking up the majority of the floor space. There were clothes strewn around the foot of the bed, some of them Harry recognised as his own and his eyes widened even more as he tentatively peeled back the duvet.

Who had he come here with? Whose house was he in? Whose _bed_ was he in?

He exhaled a deep sigh of relief when he saw that he wasn’t actually naked, he was still wearing his pants, so he could relax a little bit, but his brain was completely hazy, no recollection of the night before.

He slowly sat up in bed, keeping an ear open for any noise coming from outside of the bedroom he was currently in. When he was sure he couldn’t hear anything, he slowly swung his legs out of bed, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment while the world tilted and spun around him.

After a while, he pushed himself up to his feet, and began hunting out his clothes. They were easy enough to find, although he encountered three different pairs of skinny jeans before locating his own with his phone still tucked in the pocket.

He fished his phone out and clicked it on, wincing at the amount of missed calls and texts he had. The time on his phone read 13:43, which meant that he had missed his morning lesson at uni but if he got a bit of a move on - and if he could work out where the hell he was - he could probably get there in time for his afternoon class.

On the way out of the bedroom, he spied an ensuite bathroom, and briefly entertained the idea of taking a quick shower, but decided it was a bit too cheeky to do so considering he didn’t even know whose house he was in. He couldn’t just help himself to their hot water and shower things, it wouldn’t be fair.

He unlocked his phone as he ventured out of the bedroom, not bothering to even look at any of his missed messages just yet, instead focused solely on finding out where he was.

He pulled up the maps app, and it was just finishing loading as he reached the front door - the front door which swung open before he could even lay a finger on it.

Harry stood frozen in shock where he was, mouth dropping open in disbelief as he registered none other than Louis Tomlinson standing in the doorway, also stood stock still, staring straight back at him, matching expression of shock on his face.

“Oh my god,” Harry muttered, feeling his heart dropping. “Oh my god, no. We didn’t - “

“No, no, no, babe,” Louis interrupted. “We didn’t. I promise.”

“This is your flat, isn’t it?” Harry asked, not believing Louis’ words, heart beating fast in his chest.

“Yeah, it is. Well, it’s my friend’s and I live with him, but yeah I guess it’s kind of mine. But I wasn’t here last night, babe,” Louis said, looking strangely upset. “God. Shit. I shouldn’t have left you here. My mind has been going crazy all night and all of this morning. Are you okay? Please at least just tell me you’re alright?”

Harry frowned in complete bemusement. “Yeah, I’m fine, Louis. Should I... not be?” Harry thought for a second. “And why was I here last night if you weren’t even here?”

“God, babe, you _should_ be fine. Of course you should be! I feel so fucking bad for leaving you,” Louis said, something like regret flashing in his eyes. “My friend - Nick? - he brought you back here after our night out last night. Do you remember anything that happened?”

Harry thought back, struggling to remember anything at all, but before he could really get anywhere Louis spoke again.

“Hey - sorry - we shouldn’t just be standing in the doorway like this,” he started moving into the flat, ushering Harry backwards with him. “Here, come and sit down in - “ he began walking towards the bedroom Harry had just come from before apparently changing his mind and changing direction abruptly, steering them into a medium sized living room which was dominated by a large sofa and armchair set that also looked vaguely familiar to Harry, although he couldn't put his finger on why. “Please, sit. Do you want a cup of tea or anything? I’m sure your head’s probably hurting, if that’s the only thing that’s hurting, I - “ Louis seemed to be talking mainly to himself and Harry took pity on him and jumped in.

“Louis! I’m honestly okay. I’m… a little bit confused, but I’m okay. I don’t want a drink, thank you, no. I just want to try and work out what the hell is going on.” Harry tried for humour, but his words seemed to have completely the opposite effect on Louis, who stared at him with these big sad eyes as he dropped down into the seat next to Harry.

“I’m a shit friend, I am, Harry,” Louis moaned, tugging at his hair with a hand.

“You are _not_ a shit friend, Lou,” Harry tried to reassure him. “What makes you say that?”

“Do you not remember anything that happened yesterday?” Louis asked in despair, apparently not wanting to answer Harry’s question.

Harry took a moment, brow furrowed, genuinely trying his hardest to think back on the details of the day before. He remembered going into university in the morning and feeling completely isolated, totally alone, and he remembered Louis coming in after he’d walked out of lessons to pick him up. They hadn’t ended up going back to Harry’s room though, they’d gone - they’d gone _here_! They had come back here.

“Yeah, I do. Me and you came back here together, didn’t we? We sat together in… Were we in the same room I woke up in?” Harry frowned in confusion again. “We were, weren’t we? I really don’t understand, Lou. Whose room is that, then?”

“It’s Nick’s room, and... kind of my room,” Louis said, sounding sheepish.

Harry’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? You’re not - you two aren’t in a relationship, are you?” Harry asked, completely aghast.

“No, no, no. Not a relationship. No. We kind of used to be together, and then when that relationship finished, it was just kind of easier for us to stay living together, to be honest, but there is no relationship. Please don’t be worrying about that,” Louis pleaded with Harry to understand.

Harry didn’t really get what Louis meant, but Louis looked so concerned - still - that he just nodded along with him. There was one thing that still hadn’t been explained, though.

“So... how, exactly, did I end up in yours and Nick’s bedroom last night?” Harry pressed, feeling weird even asking the question.

Louis’ eyebrows knitted together, his eyes downcast.

“We all went out; you, me, Nick, _Niall_ was there, a whole group of people. Do you remember that?” Louis asked.

Harry cast his mind back, trying to remember. He thought he had a vague recollection of being in a packed pub, and of sitting on someone’s knee.

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry said slowly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, good,” Louis looked relieved. “And then I guess you just had a _lot_ to drink, you were very very drunk, babe,” Louis smiled, a small, barely there smile. “Nick helped you to the taxi and you were practically unconscious.”

Harry’s eyes widened, he couldn’t recall that at all.

“Obviously you couldn’t drive back to yours in that condition,” Louis continued, “so Nick thought it would be a good idea to bring you back here so you could get some sleep,” Louis trailed off then, pausing for a long moment before meeting Harry’s eyes. “Do you not remember anything that happened last night? Like, once you were back here, I mean? I wasn’t here, and I guess I kind of just want to make sure you’re all good.”

“I - um - no, I don’t remember,” Harry said, figuring it was best to be honest. “But I really do think I’m okay,” he smiled, trying to reassure Louis as much as himself.

“Okay,” Louis said, seeming to consider his next few words. “Right. I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you can and can’t do, or whatever, in regards to - well, anything really. I don't have any sort of claim over you, and I understand that, but I’m not talking about that. I'm talking about Nick right now, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced into anything, okay? Ever. You need to have complete say in anything that happens to you,” Louis said in a rush.

“Okay?” Harry said slowly, trying to process Louis’ words. “What are you -? “ Harry frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re saying you don’t care if I, what, if I get with Nick or not?”

“No," Louis answered, although the expression on his face was telling a different story. "If that’s your choice, and it’s something you want to do, it wouldn't bother me. Just please take care of yourself, okay?” Louis looked genuinely concerned, and Harry’s head spun with the abrupt conversation change. Had it been an abrupt conversation change? Or were the two connected somehow?

“Hold on,” Harry cut in. “I don’t really get what’s going on now. I thought I was getting the ‘don’t hurt my ex boyfriend’ talk. You know, ‘treat him right’, and all that. I thought you were giving me that whole speech.”

Louis’ eyes widened. “No, no, no, not at all. Far from it,” he seemed to gather himself a little. “Okay, listen. Me and Nick broke up - or didn’t ever really get together in the first place, _whatever_ \- for a reason. Yeah? And I’m not saying don’t be with him, I’m not. Like, you need to do whatever makes you happy, and if being with Nick is going to make you happy then you need to do that. But please, just be careful.”

Harry nodded slowly, really not comprehending what was going on, not really understanding the conversation in general.

“Okay, well, thank you? And I will take care of myself, of course I will,” Harry said, smiling at Louis, wanting to wipe that look of worry off of his face. “But, to be honest, I really haven’t considered any sort of relationship or anything with Nick. And that’s the truth.”

Louis smiled his first completely genuine smile of the day at those words. “Good, that’s what I was hoping to hear.”

***

Harry found himself going back to Louis’ flat with Louis more and more over the next few weeks. They would all sit together, Nick and sometimes their flatmate Liam included, drinking, listening to music, chatting, just hanging out in general. And it was comfortable, and it was nice. Harry felt like he belonged in this little setting, where he hadn't felt like he'd belonged anywhere since moving to Manchester.

Harry also started getting a little closer to Nick, as well, despite his earlier words to Louis. He still never entertained the idea of a relationship with him, but he really enjoyed his company, and Nick seemed to feel the same way about Harry. They had a lot in common, always had something new to talk about.

Harry’s ‘pulling’ days were kind of over. The few times they did venture out into town of a night, Harry often found himself attached to Nick’s side, his hand finding its way into Nick’s, their bodies pressed tight together in the crowds of people. He didn’t even think to look at anyone else, and if anyone bought him a drink, he’d more often than not end up sharing it with Nick, and vice versa.

Nick was very easy to get along with, he was a very charming person, full of cheesy lines that somehow worked. He was full of compliments, very naturally flirtatious, but Harry noticed with satisfaction that these compliments, this flirtation, seemed to only be directed at Harry, and Nick never seemed to look at the other people in the clubs either.

They had a weird sort of relationship going on - where they definitely weren’t actually _in_ a relationship with each other, but where they both used to flirt with anyone they saw on a night out, they had taken to simply doing that with each other. It just worked, somehow.

***

One night, it was just the two of them sat outside the pub in the quieter area, as Harry shivered in his thin jacket. Nick had pulled him onto his lap a long time ago so Harry was straddling Nick, his legs either side of Nick’s waist. Harry felt very disorientated, almost oddly so, and he seemed to recall having an awful lot to drink throughout the night, provided for him by various different people who had come and sat with him outside. Nick and Harry's faces were so close together that it only seemed natural. Almost inevitable. Harry wasn’t even sure who leaned in first, but before he could process what was happening, they were kissing, their lips attached, surging together.

Harry wound an arm around Nick’s neck, while Nick’s arms snaked around Harry’s waist, holding him closer. Nick’s hand wandered lower until it brushed the top of Harry’s waistband, a thumb dipping underneath to touch Harry’s bare skin.

Harry shivered, keened high in his throat, and pressed in closer to Nick, face dropping into Nick’s neck, biting lightly at the skin there.

He heard Nick chuckle lightly into his ear, and bit harder in retaliation, smirking when he heard Nick’s breath falter.

Nick’s hand tightened on Harry’s back and Harry leaned up to attach their lips again, opening his mouth eagerly when he felt Nick’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip.

Harry found himself panting, suddenly too hot, way too hot. Where had the cold breeze gone? He had been shivering from the cold a mere minute ago and now he felt as though he was burning up. He frowned in confusion, pushing Nick away weakly.

Nick tilted his head back to look up at him, face showing concern, although Harry was finding it difficult to focus on his face. In fact, everything was coming up a little bit hazy.

“Are you okay, love?” Nick asked from somewhere far away, and Harry’s hands tightened in Nick’s jacket, suddenly feeling as though he was about to fall off of Nick’s lap.

He nodded, whining when the movement made him suddenly dizzy. He clapped a hand to his forehead, other arm pulling Nick closer, or pulling himself closer to Nick, anchoring him around Nick’s neck.

He breathed heavily, trying not to throw up.

“Here, babe, let’s get you into the loo. You don’t look great,” Nick was saying and Harry’s whole world was spinning and whirling as Nick tried to unsettle him from his lap. He clung on to Nick desperately, protesting. “Come on, Harry. Up you get.”

His arm was firm around Harry’s waist as he guided him back into the club and through the masses of people. Harry couldn’t focus on any of them, couldn’t focus on anything at all except attempting to stay upright on his jelly legs.

They reached the bathroom and it was blessedly empty. Harry surged forwards and half collapsed against the sinks, fumbling with the tap to splash his face with cold water. He panted up at his reflection, water dripping down his face. His eyes were wide in his face, too wide, his pupils too black.

Nick was close behind, a hand on the back of Harry’s neck, wetting his other hand and pressing it to Harry’s forehead.

“Shit, babe,” Nick hissed. “Do you want to get in the loo? Are you going to be sick?”

Harry shook his head. He didn’t think he needed to throw up. But Nick couldn’t have understood him because next thing he knew, he was being guided firmly into a cubicle.

They had barely gotten into the cubicle together before Nick’s hands were on Harry. He backed him up against the door to close it and then reached around behind him to lock it, before taking the opportunity to run his hand over Harry’s ass in his tight jeans. He withdrew his hand after a few moments and pushed a knee firmly in between Harry’s thighs, kissing him hard, and knocking them back against the door. Harry’s mouth opened to grant Nick’s tongue access and the kiss deepened.

Harry's hands moved up to Nick's shoulders and Nick slid his hand back round to Harry's ass. Harry jerked in interest, quickly breaking away from the kiss to impatiently undo his own button and fly, fingers fumbling annoyingly, before leaning straight back in again, thrusting his ass back into Nick's hand as a hint, which Nick thankfully took, slipping a finger under the waistband of the now-loosened jeans. Harry gasped into Nick’s mouth when his finger came into contact with Harry’s bare skin.

Nick groaned and moved his head to Harry's shoulder, sinking his teeth into the soft skin there. Harry gasped brokenly, the pain shooting straight to where he was suddenly hard and aching, he felt Nick’s teeth bite in harder right before his tongue ran over the sore spot, causing Harry to hiss at the mixed sensations.

Harry started slowly, tentatively, grinding into Nick's hip, while Nick continued to bite, suck, and lick his way up and down Harry's neck. He seemed to be paying careful attention to the sweet spot where his neck met his shoulder, where he was extra sensitive, and Harry tilted his head to give Nick better access, his head spinning in retaliation of the movement.

Nick’s finger moved further down Harry's ass, finding its way into his crack, making Harry twitch violently in his grip, a loud moan escaping his lips. Harry quickly spread his legs even more, giving Nick silent permission to continue.

Nick removed his finger and brought his hand up to Harry's mouth.

"Suck," he murmured.

Harry frowned at Nick, trying to work out what was happening. When he took in the blurry sight of Nick’s fingers by his face, Harry's eyes widened a little but he took three of them into his mouth at once, sucking and swirling his tongue around, showing off for Nick.

"Trust me?" Nick asked.

Harry nodded jerkily and Nick slid his knee further between Harry’s legs, until his knee connected with the bathroom door behind Harry, stopping Harry from closing his legs, and returned his hand to Harry's ass, using his other hand to pull the back of his jeans back a little more, the fabric pressing a little painfully against his cock at the same time. He slipped his spit-slick fingers back under Harry’s waistband and brought his other hand up to the back of Harry's head, pulling it back by his hair slightly so his face was on display.

Harry breathed out shakily, willing his head to stop spinning. He resumed his grinding against Nick's hip, slow and steady.

Nick slipped a finger between Harry's cheeks, spreading them a little with his other fingers, and moved it around slightly until he brushed against Harry's hole. Harry gasped out sharply and his movements stilled as he felt Nick’s slightly wet finger brush his hole. His knees threatened to give out and his hand tightened on Nick's shoulder. He continued to breathe jerkily as Nick moved his finger gently up and down and around his entrance, never once penetrating, just letting Harry feel.

Harry set his hips rocking against Nick's, his hard cock rubbing against Nick's thigh. Just as Harry was getting into a rhythm, Nick withdrew his hand completely and placed a kiss on Harry's temple.

"You’re such a good boy, you know," he murmured into Harry's hairline. Harry could do nothing but moan in response.

Nick placed his hand over Harry's ass, pushing him firmer into Nick's body, and Harry threw his head back, mouth slightly open with a silent moan on his lips that he was trying so hard to hold in. Nick used the hand on the back of Harry's ass to control his movements.

After Harry moaned a little too loud for comfort, he pushed back away from Nick's body. "Stop," he said, as firmly as he could, swaying a little on the spot.

"Is everything okay?" Nick asked immediately, and Harry nodded just as quickly.

He suddenly felt really guilty for just leaving Nick hanging like that and took a small step back, considering.

"I wanna suck you," Harry said decisively, not sure where the idea had come from, but now it was there he knew it was what he needed to do, was already starting to drop to his knees, but Nick stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" he asked.

Harry simply shrugged Nick's hand off of his shoulder and smirked before dropping to his knees right in front of Nick, his face now level with Nick's crotch.

His fingers were a little too shaky to make quick work of undoing Nick's jeans, but he eventually managed to get his jeans down just enough for what he needed. With a quick look up to check if Nick was into this, which one look at Nick’s face confirmed that he was, Harry put one hand on Nick's hip and curled the fingers of his other hand around the shape of Nick's dick, still covered by his boxers. Harry moved his palm up and down a few times, although Nick was already fully hard under his touch before pulling the waistband of his boxers down to join his jeans.

Harry gasped as Nick's cock sprung free of its confinement, and looking up to make eye contact with Nick he brought his palm to his mouth and gave it one long, slow lick before bringing it back to Nick's cock and resuming his leisurely stroking.

Harry slid his slick hand down to the base of Nick's cock and lowered his head. He stuck his tongue out and rolled it around the tip of Nick's cock, dipping into his slit and gathering the precome there before sitting back on his heels to swallow it down, lifting his chin up and looking Nick dead in the eye so that Nick could clearly see Harry's throat bob as he swallowed. He moved back in again and closed his mouth around the tip, tongue swirling.

Harry slowly slid down Nick's length to meet his own hand, his tongue running up and down a little along the underside as he went. He looked up through his eyelashes at Nick as he removed his hand from the base of his dick and bobbed down even further.

Nick muttered something under his breath and his hips twitched a little into Harry’s mouth, making Harry’s head spin violently, his gag reflex almost triggered.

Harry hollowed his cheeks while still making eye contact with Nick, sucking hard for a moment, and then pulled off completely, his hand already reaching back out.

"You're so fucking good at that," Nick said, as Harry got a hand back on Nick's cock to pump up and down a few times. He grinned up at Nick hazily, not quite able to see his face, and his tongue flicked out to gather some more of the pre-come that had appeared at the head of Nick's cock, before gliding all the way down.

Nick moaned loud, and his hand shot to the back of Harry's head, fingers tangling in his soft curls.

Harry gagged as Nick nudged the back of his throat but he quickly recovered and relaxed his throat completely. He pulled off a little and grasped onto Nick's hips, moving them minutely back and forth a few times, looking up at Nick to check he understood.

"Sure?" Nick gritted out.

Harry nodded around Nick's dick, suddenly desperate for it, just to be able to feel something, and Nick groaned in response.

Harry sunk back down and then simply held still, tapping Nick's hip impatiently when he didn't immediately start thrusting.

When Nick pushed forward into Harry's mouth for the first time, Harry did nothing but suck harder before pulling right off again.

"Go harder," he said. His voice came out completely fucked, slurred and hoarse, and Nick groaned. Harry started moving Nick's hips back and forth roughly, to make him understand. "I won't break."

They made eye contact briefly before Nick took action and moved one hand to grip the back of Harry's head, pushing him forcefully back down towards his cock.

Nick must have known that Harry was more than capable of going all the way down, he’d done it just a few moments ago, he was sure, but Nick physically pushed Harry's head all the way down before keeping his hand firm on the back of his head, with a fistful of Harry's curls clutched tight. Harry was going a little light headed, was finding it more and more difficult to focus on anything.

“Baby,” Nick said above him, but Harry didn’t register the words, sucking harder at Nick’s cock to tempt him into moving, frustrated that Nick wasn’t getting it. “Harry,” Nick said louder, yanking on the hair in his grip.

Harry groaned and turned glassy eyes up at Nick, frowning when he saw Nick had his phone out. Seriously, he was on the phone at a moment like this? He’d just have to try better, then. He was about to go back to sucking when he registered that Nick was still speaking.

He frowned to convey that he didn’t understand and Nick waved the phone in front of his face.

“Can I get a picture of you, baby?” Harry strained to hear his words over the buzzing in his head. “You look so fucking hot, I want to be able to look back on this later,” Nick said, the waving phone giving Harry more clarification than Nick’s words were.

He shrugged, not really caring, and went back to sucking, focused on making Nick come undone above him.

After a second or two, Nick suddenly pulled his hips out almost all the way, causing Harry to lean with him so he didn’t pop out completely and then thrust back in hard, catching Harry by surprise as he hit Harry's throat, making him gag a little. Nick pulled back again but this time when he thrust back in Harry was ready and his throat was fully relaxed so Nick slid right down.

Nick groaned loud and started to move faster and faster. Harry's hand was flat on the door behind Nick, bracing himself, although it kept slipping down every so often which was annoying.

After a few minutes, Nick pulled Harry off of him by his hair.

"Close. Let me come on your face?"

Harry slowly moved his free hand back to Nick's cock to continue stroking but Nick was too close already.

"Damnit, Harry," Nick cursed at him.

Harry's eyes fluttered shut. "Yeah,” he said, huskily.

"Right," Nick said, grabbing the back of Harry's head again and forcing him to stay still as he quickly stroked himself.

Harry opened his mouth, shutting his eyes and grinning in satisfaction as he felt the liquid spattering on his face, some landing in his mouth.

“Fuck,” Nick cursed. “Stay like that, baby, keep your mouth open.” A pause and then, “Can you open your eyes?”

Harry took a moment to realise he was talking to him, almost feeling as though he was falling asleep now that he had shut his eyes, but he forced them open again, blearily noticing that Nick was holding the phone out above him.

Harry grinned up at Nick, half laughing at the situation, loving the attention.

Nick lowered the phone after a moment. "Oh my fucking god," he breathed. "You are something else, Harry Styles."

Harry smiled shyly and stood then, a little shaky, but Nick was there to support him, a hand on his waist. Nick was so kind, so caring to Harry.

Harry leaned in closer to Nick, so that Nick could clearly hear as Harry's throat worked swallowing Nick's come down, but he didn’t know if Nick really got what he was trying to do.

"You're fucking incredible," Nick said, running his hand down over Harry's slightly sweaty hair. "In-credible."

Harry grinned lazily, his tongue darting out to his bottom lip, licking up the tiny bit of come that was left there, swaying unsteadily.

Nick used a finger to sweep up the come on Harry’s face, steadily feeding it to Harry, who nipped at Nick’s fingers at the end, grinning at him.

Nick growled then, crowding Harry back against the other wall and kissing him hard. Harry's head hit hard against the wall but neither of them seemed to notice or care.

The jolt made Harry's head go even fuzzier though, and his hands rushed to the back of Nick's neck, for the purpose of holding himself up, while Nick's arms slid around Harry's waist, their bodies rocking back and forth as their kiss went on.

"Shall I return the favour?" Nick asked after a while, pulling back a little and toying with Harry's waistband. Harry shook his head, slapping Nick's hands away.

"What about a handjob? Want you up here," Harry said. He genuinely thought his legs would give out if he couldn’t lean his full weight between Nick and the wall, and hoped Nick wouldn’t notice how weak he was feeling.

"God, your voice," Nick moaned. "Your voice is fucking wrecked."

"You can thank yourself for that, nothing to do with me," Harry said, registering that his words were coming out horribly slurred, and leaning back in to connect their mouths so he wouldn’t have to try and talk anymore.

Nick slowly moved his palm down between their bodies to curl around Harry's length through his jeans.

Harry jolted immediately, his hips thrusting into Nick's fist, but Nick didn't let him control the speed. Pushing his hips back against the wall with his knee, and then holding him tight with his free hand, he kept Harry in place as his hand moved slowly up and down Harry's length.

Harry's breathing grew choppier, his world becoming hazier and hazier around him, his hand tightening on the back of Nick's neck.

"Not gonna last long," Harry muttered - he assumed that was what was happening to him, anyway, just his orgasm approaching. Right? "Jesus, fuck."

Nick sped up a little, causing Harry's hips to hitch a tiny bit against his grip.

Harry dropped his head to rest on Nick's shoulder, he was getting so dizzy, his whole world spinning, he could hear his moans coming louder and more frequently, but he wasn’t even really aware that it was him who was making that sound.

Harry's thighs were shaking hard, he was probably mere seconds away from falling apart.

And then the door to the toilets swung open noisily, hitting the wall.

“Harry?” a very familiar voice called through the wall.

Harry drew back, his head smacking against the wall behind him. He felt as though he was going blind or something, he could make out Nick’s shape in front of him, and the selection of colours surrounding him, but nothing else, no clear details. There was a loud whistling noise in his ears, replacing the buzzing from before, and he shakily lifted one arm from around Nick’s neck so he could press a hand to his ear, cringing at the noise.

What the fuck was happening to him?

He realised that someone had called his name a while ago and figured he should probably reply to them, but as he began to open his mouth, Nick’s palm was suddenly pressed flat to his lips, his body crowding him against the wall, making Harry feel very claustrophobic.

He hung on feebly to Nick, his legs finally giving out beneath him, Nick the only thing keeping him upright.

"Stay quiet, love," Nick whispered into Harry’s ear. “You don’t want anyone to see you like this, do you, baby?”

Harry couldn’t say or do anything, just held on as best he could to Nick’s shoulders, his body shaking.

A few more minutes passed, Harry had no idea how long, and Nick let go of Harry, stepping away from him completely.

Harry’s legs gave out immediately. He slid down the wall a little way, slumping to the bathroom floor, his back pressed against the wall, breathing slowly. He attempted to see where Nick was going but his eyes kept fluttering shut, refusing to co-operate with him and stay open.

He was aware of Nick hovering above him, but he had no idea what he was doing. He was struggling to get back into his own head, he felt as though he wasn’t all there at all, trying his hardest to even do something as simple as breathing. He was well aware that his breathing wasn’t coming out right at all, was far too slow, and it sounded as though it was rattling in his head, far too loud.

He heard Nick huff a sound above him, possibly a laugh, Harry briefly wondered what was funny. Then he was being hauled up, stumbling forwards and nearly smacking into the opposite wall in the cramped space.

“Let’s get you home, then,” Nick said, voice right in Harry’s ear, ringing out loud and clear in Harry’s head.

Harry allowed himself to be carried out, snuggling into Nick’s chest and burying his face in Nick’s shoulder, as everything suddenly went very still and very quiet - a complete contrast to the last few moments.

Harry’s world faded to black.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: brief scene of violence (not graphic), and implied rape.
> 
> ***

A very violent but inexplainable bad feeling had rooted itself somewhere deep inside Louis’ gut. He couldn’t shake it off, couldn’t stop himself from worrying, actually felt as though he was gearing himself up into a full blown panic. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on why, on what was wrong, what was causing him to feel that way.

The last time he’d seen Harry, he had been with Liam, and Nick; they had all appeared to be drinking heavily, and already seemed very drunk. Well, Harry did, at least, even seemed to be having trouble standing as they had guided him outside. Louis had assumed then that they were taking him out to get some fresh air, and was actually feeling quite grateful towards them for seeming to have Harry’s best interests at heart, was glad that he had people that were able to take care of him.

But then Louis had lost Harry completely, he’d kept looking back to the door waiting for his reappearance but it never came. He spotted Niall at one point, but had stupidly assumed he would have been with Harry, so had skimmed straight past him to see if Harry was indeed following close behind, and by the time he had realised Harry was not, in fact, there, he had managed to lose sight of Niall again, too.

Louis had gone on three full circuits of the pub and its surrounding area since then, scouring the masses of people for a glimpse of Harry. He really shouldn’t be that difficult to spot, he didn’t exactly blend in with crowds very easily, he was almost always taller than the people around him, for one thing, and his trademark long curls were always very easy to locate amidst others. So the fact that Louis still hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of him was a little strange.

He had also sent Harry three messages that had all gone unanswered, but he was refusing to give up hope. He stepped outside of the pub again, walking a little way to try and get away from the noise coming from within. His hands already feeling numb from the cold night air, he called Harry’s number up, pressing his phone to his ear expectantly, only to be greeted with the sound of the dial tone ringing on and on in his head.

“Fuck sake,” Louis muttered to himself, hanging up in frustration without bothering to leave a voice message.

He tried to call Nick next, assuming it was likely that he was probably off somewhere with Harry, but he didn’t get any further with him, his call going ignored again. Huffing a sigh, Louis tapped out a quick message to Nick as well - _where are you? are you with harry?_ \- and then trudged back into the pub, pushing his way roughly through the mass of bodies and heading back to the bathroom to see if he’d missed something the first few times around.

This time when he entered the bathroom, it was completely empty, all of the stall doors wide open and he quickly glanced into each of them while he had the chance, huffing in frustration when his search brought up nothing at all that could help him find Harry.

He decided he’d quickly use the loo while he was in there, and went into the stall next to the wall.

As he was leaving, his eyes caught on something on the stall wall and he stopped in his tracks. There was writing on the wall, scribbled in what looked like a black marker pen. That wasn’t necessarily odd, people tended to write on the walls quite a lot, the whole ‘call so and so for a good time’ messages that people thought were so amusing, but what caught Louis’ attention was the fact that he was sure he’d seen the name Harry written there.

He frowned, stepping closer, his eyes widening when he saw that he was correct. The message began with a string of numbers which Louis recognised as Harry’s phone number followed by, **not what you’d call loose but v experienced call Harry for a quick lay.**

Louis tutted, and scrubbed absentmindedly at the crude message on the wall, flinching backwards when the words actually started to smudge a little bit, indicating that they had been written there pretty recently.

“Shit,” Louis cursed loudly, his voice echoing around the room, bouncing off of the walls back at him. “Fuck sake!”

He grabbed some toilet paper and went out to the sinks, wetting it under the tap and taking it back into the stall with him to try and clean the message off completely. He didn’t do too bad a job, the words were still visible but only if you were actively looking for them, so he considered it a job well done.

He washed his hands in the sink, and fished his phone out of his pocket again, calling both Harry and Nick in turn, still met with nothing but the dial tone.

_Seriously where are you? Little worried now._

Louis sent the message to the pair of them and exited the bathroom, figuring he’d do one more sweep of the pub before calling it a night and heading back to either his or Niall’s, depending on if he could locate Niall in the scrum of people or if he had suddenly turned invisible as well.

It turned out that luck was just not on Louis’ side that night, because he wasn’t able to spot the blond lad anywhere either.

He stabbed out another text message, this time sending it off to Niall: _Thanks for abandoning me, fucker. Have you gone home with H?_

He shoved past a large group of people blocking his way to the exit, and finally emerged out into the cold street again.

He quickly hailed a taxi and slid into the back seat, rattling off his address to the driver and slumping back into the seat.

_On my way back to the flat. You’d better be there._

He sent that off to both Harry and Nick, and then it was kind of out of his hands, so he resorted to fiddling uselessly with his phone a little, anxiously waiting for a reply that he wasn’t really expecting to come through any more.

***

When the taxi pulled up outside Louis and Nick’s flat, Louis hurriedly paid the driver, not bothering to collect his change as he slammed the car door shut behind him and rushed up to the front door.

He fumbled with his keys, not wanting to put his phone away in case he finally got a reply from Harry - or, well, anyone he had been waiting for a reply from, really. Eventually, he managed to slide the key into the door and he let himself into the flat.

The entire flat was completely dark, and Louis took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the change in light. He gave a cursory glance to his phone in case he had somehow missed a notification, and then used the light of his phone to navigate his way down the hall.

He stuck his head round the doorway into the living room, and saw no sign of life in there whatsoever. In fact, it looked as though no one had even been in there since before they all went out - there were still numerous empty bottles littered over the table, along with cigarette papers and spilled tobacco. So someone was going to have to clean that up in the morning, and Louis promised himself there and then that that person would not be him.

Louis tutted and backed out of the living room, heading through to the small kitchen. The story was pretty much the same in there, it looked as though no one had touched it since they had left. Half-empty pizza boxes took up space on one counter, while empty crisp packets and chocolate bar wrappers littered the floor.

Louis decided he wasn’t going to bother checking Liam’s room, because Liam was probably already asleep in there anyway and he didn’t want to have to deal with the awkward situation of waking up someone he didn’t really know all that well, so that only left the shared bathroom and his and Nick’s bedroom, and the en suite attached to that bedroom, of course.

Louis was slowly losing hope, but he pushed the bathroom door open. This room had definitely been used more recently, the smell of Liam’s cologne was almost overpowering as soon as the door swung open, as though he’d spritzed the whole room in the stuff and the room even felt a little damp which was probably caused by a recent bath or shower. Randomly there was a full set of bed sheets just laying in the middle of the bathroom floor, which Louis didn’t want to dwell on the meaning of. What Liam did in his spare time was up to him, as far as Louis was concerned.  
  
Ultimately, Louis couldn’t see any signs of Nick or Harry in there, either.

Only one more place he could look, then.

Hoping for the best, he carried on down the hall until he reached his bedroom door. He listened outside for a few seconds but couldn’t hear any noises coming from within, so figured he wasn’t going to interrupt anything if he just burst in. He put his hand on the door handle and quietly pushed it open.

This room was pitch black too, even the curtains that normally let in light from the street lamp outside were fully drawn, and Louis blinked a few times trying to see through the darkness.

He thought he could make out a shape in the bed, but he wasn’t completely sure, and he didn’t want to turn the light on if that shape was actually Harry, sleeping. He didn’t want to scare him like that.

He slowly started to make his way towards the bed, trying to tread carefully on the carpet, so as not to make any loud noises.

But his good intentions were shot to pieces when the door to the en suite suddenly burst open when Louis was right next to it, causing Louis to shout out in alarm, clutching at his chest dramatically as he spun around to see what was going on.

Nick stood in the doorway, light from the en suite now flooding into the bedroom, the sudden light change confusing Louis’ eyes even further.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Nick hissed, keeping his voice low.

“Um - I fucking live here?” Louis snapped back, not bothering to try and moderate the volume of his own voice.

Nick’s eyes widened and he glanced at something over Louis’ shoulder, but before Louis had time to turn and see what he was looking at, Nick had reached around behind himself and switched the bathroom light off, quickly dousing the room in black again.

As Louis’ eyes struggled to adjust to yet another change in light, he felt Nick grabbing him tight around the arm and he was pulled back out into the hall.

Once they were outside the bedroom again, and Nick had clicked the bedroom door shut behind them, he let go of Louis’ arm. Louis rubbed rapidly at the spot where Nick had gripped him, sure that there would be bruises there in the morning. He scowled up at Nick even though the darkness meant that Nick wouldn’t get the full effect of Louis’ hard stare. It made him feel a little better to do so.

“Seriously, Louis, what are you doing here?” Nick said, shifting past Louis in the hall and half guiding him through into the living room, deliberately taking them further and further away from the bedroom, it seemed.

“Seriously, Nick,” Louis mimicked, his tone cutting. “I fucking live here,” he repeated.

Nick clicked on the light and then pushed the door shut behind them, closing them in. Louis was instantly suspicious of Nick’s motives.

“Why are you being so skittish? Why are we hiding out in here?” Louis demanded. “What the hell is going on?”

Nick smiled a slow, almost sinister looking smile that turned Louis’ stomach. “I have a guest,” he replied, simply, meeting Louis’ gaze square on even though Louis was glaring full force at him.

“A ‘guest’?” Louis repeated. “And by guest, you mean Harry, yeah?” he asked, already heading back over to the living room door, ready to go charging through the flat back to the bedroom where he was now pretty certain Harry was.

He was pulled back again and this time pushed down onto the couch, Nick standing directly in front of him. Louis glared up at him, an eyebrow raised in silent question.

“Is Harry in this flat right now? Yes or no?” Louis asked, speaking as loud as he could, hoping that his voice would carry through to the bedroom.

“Yes,” Nick answered, shortly, and seeing that Louis was a second from making a run for it again, he moved in even closer to Louis, effectively trapping him. “He’s asleep, though. It would be a bit rude to just barge in and wake him up, don’t you think?”

Louis narrowed his eyes at him, thoroughly doubting that Nick was telling the truth. “He’s asleep, is he?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Nick said, airily, waving his hand lazily in the air. “You know how it goes, he had a bit too much to drink, and his body couldn’t handle it, so it’s now sleeping the alcohol off. Simple as that.”

Nick began to move away from the couch, keeping a close eye on Louis as he went, probably making sure he didn’t make any sudden movements.

“Now if you don’t mind running along,” Nick continued, gesturing to the closed door. “I’m sure you’ll be able to see your precious Harry tomorrow.”

“He’s not ‘my precious’ Harry,” Louis argued. “He’s my friend, who I have been worried about all evening because he just disappeared on me. I have a right to be concerned about my friends, you know, Nick, that’s just normal. What you’re doing, on the other hand, is not normal. It’s far from normal,” Louis ranted, the words falling out of his mouth thick and fast.

Nick looked a little taken aback, but the small smile didn’t quite fade from his lips.

“You think this is all so amusing, don’t you?” Louis asked. “It’s _hilarious_ that you’ve got a passed out boy in your bedroom that you’re planning to do god knows what with. It’s hilarious that you’re fucking up this poor boy’s life when he has done nothing to you?”

Nick’s smile only grew and Louis had to fight the urge to jump up and punch that look right off of his smug face. He subconsciously drew his hands into fists on either side of his body, breathing harshly as he stared Nick down, waiting for any sort of response from him.

“First of all, Louis, you need to work out where your loyalties lie. You say that Harry hasn’t done anything, so I guess you’re forgetting the fact that he broke our friend’s heart not so long ago?” Nick spoke, still keeping his voice lowered.

“He didn’t fucking break her heart!” Louis yelled back. “He really hasn’t done anything wrong, and you know that! You’re just toying with him to give yourself some sort of kick by breaking his heart, ruining his life, for no fucking reason. What is _wrong_ with you?”

Louis didn’t know where this sudden passion had come from; he had never once stood up to Nick like this before, no matter what he’d witnessed Nick doing in the past. It had always been Nick and Louis on one side together, regardless of who they were up against, or who was actually in the wrong - which, admittedly, was usually Nick.

But, now, Louis couldn’t let himself just sit by and watch Nick tear Harry’s world apart, just for something to do. It wasn’t right, and he wouldn’t let that happen.

Louis’ heart beat hard in his chest, pumping with adrenaline, as Nick walked back up to him again, getting right into his personal space.

“It’s just a game, Louis,” Nick said, leaning in to Louis’ face, so close that Louis could see nothing but Nick. “It’s always just a game.”

“Oh, shut the _fuck_ up!” Louis shouted, swinging his already clenched fist hard and catching Nick in the side of the head.

Nick stumbled and Louis watched frozen with wide eyes as he fell onto the floor, one hand rushing up to grip the side of his head.

Louis sat still in shock for a few seconds, just staring down at the man on the ground. He didn’t even register the sound of the living room door opening behind him, eyes glued to Nick's slumped form on the carpet.

He didn’t even react when he was being hauled out of the room, a strong arm wrapped around his torso.

He came to a little when he was pushed outside, the front door clattering shut behind him. The cold of the night air chilled his body in an instant and he was shivering, although that was probably partially from the pure adrenaline still racing through his bones.

He turned to see who had manhandled him outside, and saw Liam stood there, in a flimsy set of pyjamas, his arms wrapped around his own body as protection against the cold.

“Just get out of here, Louis,” Liam said, his voice soft, calming. “Trust me, you don’t need or want to be here right now. Go and find somewhere else to sleep, yeah? ”

“My friend’s in there with him, Li,” Louis tried to explain, his teeth chattering. “I just need to get him out of there and then I can go away.”

He tried to move past him back into the flat but Liam barred the way.

“Louis. Come on. Let me call you a taxi. I can keep an eye on your friend for you,” he said, gently pushing Louis back a few steps.

 

Louis frowned. Something still didn’t feel right about this, something felt off. That feeling was chilling Louis’ body even more, inside and out.

“Why don’t you go over and stay with Zayn?” Liam prompted, apparently very eager to get rid of Louis. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, or that Irish lad we were with earlier? Niall? He wouldn’t mind either.”

Louis was starting to feel a little numb: the come-down from the fight, and the cold numbing his body, these sensations were conspiring to strip him of all emotions.

He thought as best he could for a few seconds, and ended up simply shrugging half heartedly.

“Do what you like, Liam,” he said, his voice coming out dejected. “I’ll go and stay at Niall’s, yeah.”

“Okay, great,” Liam smiled, already bringing his phone up to his ear.

Louis half listened as Liam ordered a taxi, vaguely registered Liam pressing a key into his palm, which he assumed was Harry’s building key - it only made sense that Liam would have a spare seeing as his boyfriend lived there, as well - barely noticed being helped into the taxi.

His mind floated aimlessly as he drove through the dark streets of Manchester, and he walked almost on autopilot to Harry’s building, his thoughts going to places that were even darker than the current setting surrounding him.

He found his eyes filling with tears as he knocked on first Harry’s and then Niall’s bedroom doors, receiving no reaction from either room. He ended up letting himself into Niall’s - didn’t feel like he deserved to enter Harry’s, ever again, really - and he curled up on the floor, his head resting on his knees, as he let his body shake with unrepressed sobs.

His mind was stuck on repeat, working over the same worry.

What had Nick done to Harry?

Or, maybe it was really a case of what _Louis_ had done to Harry? Maybe Louis had simply been too late.

Once that thought entered his mind, Louis kept coming back to the same conclusion over and over again.

It was all his fault.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> This is a pretty short chapter, but as this is just a bonus chapter anyway, I figured it was okay. I will be updating tomorrow as normal.
> 
> Warnings: a drug-addled mind, hallucinations, brief mention of sexual assault
> 
> ***

Harry lay face down trembling in the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. One moment he was aware of the pain - both physical and emotional - that his body was in, could feel the sheets below him, the ties around his wrists and ankles, and the next he could feel nothing at all.

The numbness had scared him at first, terrified him, but after a while he had almost hoped for the numbness to take over when his body started feeling things he didn’t want to be feeling.

He might have fallen asleep a few times, or might have laid awake the whole time, he didn’t know. He wasn’t really there.

He kept hearing Nick’s and that other man's words running through his head, on a constant loop, over and over again. “Now let’s have some real fun. Don’t pretend you don’t like it. Smile, baby.”

The voice was so clear, Harry kept thinking they were back in the room, that the words were really being spoken again and not just inside his head. He couldn’t separate his thoughts from reality, and it terrified him.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Harry felt someone running their hands over his body, paying special attention to his ass, where Harry felt as though something was being pushed in and out of his hole. He sunk deeper into the sheets, as though he could push his body right through to the other side, but no such luck.

It was happening again. This wasn’t just in Harry’s head. It was all going to happen all over again.

He was suddenly grabbed by the hips and flipped over, allowing him to stare up at the ceiling above him. He felt the ties being removed from around his ankles, and then from his wrists, but once the ties had been completely removed he found that he remained in the exact same position, hands up above his head, legs stretched out to the end of the bed. He physically couldn’t move, or maybe he just didn’t feel the need to move, didn't see the point when he wouldn't be able to do anything to help himself anyway.

Harry watched blearily as a hand flew up to his face. It connected sharply with his cheek, then quickly smacked into his other cheek. The stinging pain hit him a few long seconds later and he slowly brought one hand down to cradle the sore patch of skin.

He was hauled up into a sitting position that he just about managed to remain in, and he glanced up to see Nick standing above him. His body vaguely registered that he needed to get away, and he carefully began to back away across the bed. He noticed that Nick was brandishing something in his hand.

“Call someone and get out of here,” he barked, throwing Harry’s phone at him.

Harry attempted to pick it up, but his hands refused to co-operate with him, the device simply slipping through his fingers the first few times he tried to hold it.

Eventually he managed to keep a grip on it, jabbing sporadically at the screen until he managed to call up a name that looked familiar to him.

He brought the device up to his ear, fumbling with it for a second. He decided to hold it with two hands to make it a little more secure.

“Hello? Harry?” Harry smiled as he heard Ed’s voice come through the phone, he pressed the phone closer to his ear. “Hello? Can you hear me?” Ed spoke again.

Harry frowned, confused, looking up at Nick. _Then_ he remembered.

“C’n you come ‘n’ get me?” Harry spoke, painstakingly slowly, trying his hardest to form the words he knew he desperately needed to say. The words felt thick in his mouth and he struggled to push them out past his lips.

“What, babe?” Harry vaguely registered someone saying in his ear. He looked around sluggishly, confused. Where had that voice come from? “Harry?” it spoke again.

“Hi,” Harry drawled. “So can you please get me, please?” He _thought_ that was what he was supposed to be saying.

“Where are you, babe?” The voice was back again and Harry whined in frustration.

He let the phone drop down to the bed and sat perfectly still. He noticed someone walk in front of him and then another voice was speaking. That was definitely Nick’s voice! He squinted up and sure enough he could just about make out the outline of Nick’s body.

Harry decided to focus on simply breathing in and out, idly watching as his chest mimicked his actions, rising and falling, rising and falling. It was almost soothing, somehow.

As he was watching those movements, he suddenly felt somebody else’s hands on him, shifting him about and pulling him up from the bed. He felt as though he were floating, desperately wanted his feet to connect back with the ground.

Clothes were being placed on his body as he leaned heavily against the person holding him upright. He had no idea how long he stood like that, with someone continuously rocking his body backwards and forwards. After what felt like hours - or no time at all - he was being moved again.

He was lifted up into someone’s arms and then taken down a hallway that seemed to go on for ages, the jostling motions making his vision spin.

They finally reached a large doorway and Harry slowly reached his hand out to try and push it open, but his hand was quickly snatched back and held up above his head. He whined in protest, leaning his head back against the shoulder of the person who was holding him. The door in front of him opened and Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

“Jesus fucking christ, what the fuck?” Someone - was that Ed? - cussed, and Harry frowned, burrowing his body into the person who was holding him.

He was transferred then, his entire world tilting around crazily. He grabbed on to whoever was now holding him, his fists gathered tightly in a shirt as he kept his eyes closed, hiding his face as best he could.

He was pushed down onto a soft seat where he immediately lay down. He heard doors slamming and then a big roaring noise that made him cringe into the seat, the sound making his head scream out in protest.

He drifted back into a dreamless sleep, unable to fight the drowsiness in his head any longer, and lulled by the car’s steady movements.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> I have actually recently edited this chapter because I felt a little weird about putting the unedited version online. I have basically missed out all of the details of the video Louis watches (which consisted of non-con, unconscious sex, sexual assault, and derogatory names) IF anyone does want to read that, please let me know, and I'll find another way to upload that part. It isn't really essential to the story - it's more the idea of the tape that is important - so you're not really missing anything without the details. Hope you understand.
> 
> There are still some warnings for this chapter though and those are: implied non-con, non-con sex tape, descriptions of deliberate alcohol (and implied drug) abuse.
> 
> ***

Louis was awoken from his brief sleep by the sounds of Niall crashing into the small bedroom, mumbling to himself.

“Ah! What the fuck?” Niall squawked as he noticed Louis, who was still sprawled out on the floor where he had eventually fallen asleep the night before. “Louis? What are you doing down there... And in here, for that matter?”

“Where did you go off to last night?” Louis asked, not bothering to answer Niall’s question just yet.

He started feeling around on the floor for his phone while he waited for Niall’s response. Locating it, he picked it up and glanced up at Niall who was watching Louis’ movements.

“Well?” Louis probed, and Niall beamed down at him.

“I pulled, didn’t I?” Niall said, sounding very pleased with himself. “Spent the night back at her place.”

Louis rolled his eyes, unlocking his phone. His heart dropped when he saw that he still had no new messages.

“So, what _are_ you doing down there, mate?” Niall asked.

Louis typed out a message for Harry: _Are you okay? Very worried about you. Get in touch. X_ , before looking back up at Niall, who had started to move off towards the bathroom, still looking at Louis questioningly.

“Bit of a long story,” Louis replied, rubbing his forehead wearily. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Nah, of course not, could have slept in the bed even, I wouldn’t have minded!” Niall said cheerily. “Just going to pop in the shower, mate. I might be some time, I fucking stink!”

“Lovely,” Louis muttered, turning his attention back to his phone. “And thanks!” he called after Niall, after a moment, remembering his manners. He _had_ just crashed uninvited on the lad’s floor after all. Some people wouldn’t have been that cool about it.

“You’re welcome!” came Niall’s muffled reply from inside the bathroom.

Louis’ phone informed him that it was currently 1:25pm. He wasn’t exactly all that surprised that he had slept in that late, considering he probably hadn’t fallen asleep until about 5 that morning, his mind completely unable to switch off, no matter what he tried.

He considered getting up and going down the hall to Harry’s room to see if he had gotten home yet, and was just eyeing his outfit up and down to see if he was presentable enough when he noticed he had a new email on his personal account.

This wouldn’t be that remarkable to most people, but Louis very rarely contacted anyone on that account, especially not now he was at uni; most of his correspondences happened via his university’s email address.

Frowning, he opened up the app, and clicked on the new message, shifting himself up to sit with his back resting against Niall’s bed.

The email sitting in his inbox was from an address he didn’t recognise, and there was a file attached to it. He opened up the email and clicked on the attachment. There was no text in the email so he had no idea what to expect when the video file started to load.

If he'd had any inkling as to what he was about to watch, and of how violently he would feel when watching it, he definitely would have quit when he was ahead. Ignorance is, after all, bliss.   


He had to take a break midway through the video, what he saw far too shocking for him to stomach, and he got up from the floor as calmly as he could, and walked straight down the hall to the communal toilets, where he was promptly sick. He could feel tears springing to his eyes as he knelt down beside the toilet, his stomach rolling. He was in there for at least ten minutes, throwing up again and again, over and over, sobbing over the toilet bowl, before he pushed himself up on shaky legs and moved to the sink to wash his hands.

His reflection in the mirror above the sink showed just how pale he was, how wide his eyes looked in his face. He splashed his face with cold water, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

His legs felt too weak to even hold himself up but he somehow made it back to Niall’s room, where he sat numbly staring at the closed bathroom door. He had no idea of how long he sat there doing nothing, thinking nothing, seeing nothing.

“Shit.”

His mind began to race as he stayed in that same position. He told himself he needed to watch the rest of the video, he _needed_ to. Somebody had sent this to him specifically, and it could have been some vile person - it could have been one of the fuckers in the video. But it could also have been one of - one of Harry’s friends. One of his friends, who cared for him. Fuck. Did Harry know about this? Had he seen?

Louis realised he was crying again and swiped at his eyes impatiently as he got up from the floor again. He headed down to the kitchen this time, taking his phone along with him. He needed to calm down - although he was only going to get worked up - maybe even more so, _fuck_  - when he got back to the video. He made himself a cup of tea anyway, sipping it right there standing up in the kitchen, checking his phone every few seconds in case Harry had possibly replied.

He finished his tea and filled himself a glass of water to take back to the room with him. He decided to send Harry a text as he was on his way. He sent a simple ‘ _are you safe?_ ’ which he deliberated about for long enough, and then sat back down on the floor in Niall’s room again. He put the glass of water on the floor in front of him, took a few more deep breaths, picked the glass up, put it down. Picked it up again, took a small drink. Put it down again. More deep breathing. Checked his phone. No reply.

Okay.

He unlocked his phone and opened up the attachment again, instantly feeling violently sick as the man’s - as _Harry’s_ \- naked arse and legs, unmarked for now, filled the screen.

He skipped forward, taking another long drink from his glass, his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

He resumed playing again as Harry’s body was flipped over and forced himself to watch until the bitter end, tears streaming down his face, mirroring those running down Harry's cheeks on the screen of his phone.

The screen finally, mercifully, went blank, the video automatically closing.

Louis had no idea how long he sat staring down at his phone after that - long enough for his phone to automatically lock, leaving behind nothing but a black screen - before the bathroom door opened and Niall appeared in the doorway.

“Oh, come on, Louis. You’re not going to stay down there all day, are ya?” Niall asked, a laugh in his voice.

Louis simply looked up at him, still feeling a little bit numb. Niall must have noticed that his eyes were brimming with tears because his expression changed in an instant.

“Shit, what’s wrong?” he asked quickly, moving closer to Louis.

Somehow, Niall’s tone of voice snapped Louis into action and he quickly got to his feet.

“Unlock my phone, watch the video, stay right here, and answer any questions I have when I come back,” Louis barked at him, not waiting to see if Niall understood, already on his way out of Niall’s room, the door slamming shut behind him.

He hurried down the hall to Harry’s room, where he knocked noisily on the door. He waited a few minutes, and then taking a deep breath - and already slightly hating himself for it - he slowly pushed the door open.

His worries were instantly confirmed, Harry’s bed was neatly made - clearly hadn’t been slept in recently, there was no signs of the boy anywhere. Tears springing to Louis’ eyes again, he backed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

He considered for a brief moment what to do next, whether to quickly pay Zayn a visit and let him know what was going on, or to just go back to Niall’s room and try to find out exactly what _had_ gone on.

In the end, confronting Niall won out, and he figured doing things that way round would mean he would have more information to give to Zayn when he eventually did visit Zayn, anyway.

He hurried back down the hall, not bothering to knock at Niall’s door, just letting himself straight in.

Niall was sat on the bed, still wrapped in his towel, Louis’ phone in his hand, and a look of utter distress written all over his face.

“Lou - “ Niall said as soon as Louis walked in but Louis stopped him straight away.

“No,” he said firmly. “No ‘Lou’. You need to tell me what the fuck happened.”

“You have to believe me - “ Niall begged. “I swear I didn’t know he was going to go this far. Never in a million years would I think that he was capable of this.”

The pure sincerity in Niall’s voice made Louis stop for a minute, taking in a deep breath and trying to collect his thoughts a little.

“I think you need to start explaining exactly what happened right now, because I’m so close to calling the fucking police. I don’t even know why I haven’t done that already.” Louis struggled to keep his voice steady, and he could tell Niall was actually a little bit scared of him. Rightly so; he had never felt so angry.

“I might have played a part in this, so please don’t think badly of me. Like I said, I never expected it to go this far,” Niall pleaded with Louis to understand, Louis nodded impatiently and signalled for Niall to continue.

Niall took in a deep breath and Louis stayed silent, watching him, waiting for the explanation.

“To be honest, I can’t tell you all that much about what you’ve already seen here,” Niall started, waving Louis’ phone. “I didn’t even know that was what Nick was going to do, and that is the truth, whether you’re going to believe that or not.”

Louis didn’t speak, just gestured for Niall to carry on talking, which he did so after a minute or so where he seemed to take the time to collect his thoughts a little.

Niall took a deep breath, and then looked straight into Louis’ eyes as he started to speak. “Okay, so, I was at the bar, talking to a girl - the same one I ended up going home with, actually, not that that’s really important, sorry - and Nick came over to me out of nowhere. I thought he was just going to ask me where you or Harry were, seeing as we don’t really talk or anything normally, you know? But he told me that Harry was having a bit of a rough night, and he asked if I could go and help cheer him up. Obviously I didn’t even think twice about that, so I agreed straight away. Then Nick handed me a couple of drinks and told me where to find Harry, said he was just going to the loo, and that was it for a little while.”

Louis frowned, trying to piece together Niall’s story with the way he knew the night had ended up.

“I went outside to the seating area out there and Harry was sitting with someone - “ Niall paused to think, evidently racking his brains for who it had been. “Oh! I think it was your Liam actually. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was! Because he was being quite loud and I remember being surprised that it was the same guy who had never spoken a word in my presence before! But he seemed really on edge; I thought him and Nick had taken something, but maybe the reason was something more sinister.”

Niall lowered his eyes, absentmindedly toying with Louis’ phone in his lap.

“I gave Harry his drinks, and he didn’t really say much to me - he did seem really off - and Liam made sure he finished both of the drinks, was sort of egging him on quite a bit, and there were a few glasses on the table as well.” Niall continued, trying to be as detailed as possible, which Louis appreciated. “Then after a while Nick came out to join us and he had two more drinks on him, and he pulled Harry up into his lap and made him drink those as well.”

Louis could clearly picture the situation in his head, could imagine everything perfectly, and it was hurting him more than he was willing to admit. He nodded impatiently when Niall had paused for a while, looking back at Louis concernedly. He didn’t want concern, or pity, or whatever that look was in Niall’s eyes; he just wanted the facts.

“Harry was basically wrapped around Nick, just cuddled into his lap, and Nick was basically pouring the drink down his throat; like Harry wasn’t even holding it himself or anything, and I genuinely was really worried about him, yeah? So I tried to ask him if he was okay, what was wrong, all that, but Nick answered instead, and just said, like, ‘he doesn’t want to talk about it, he’s just trying to forget it,’ I don’t really know, some bullshit like that. And then he asked me to wait with Harry and give him a bit more to drink while he went to buy some more alcohol for him, and I was like, yeah, whatever, and they left me and Harry alone while they went in to do that.”

Louis frowned, couldn’t stop himself from butting in. “Why would you do that, though? You’re saying Nick was basically force feeding him the drinks, why would you help him do that?”

Niall looked down at his lap, looking incredibly guilty. “I guess I just trusted Nick? Like, if that was me, and I was really upset about something, I probably would just want to carry on drinking until I forgot whatever it was that had upset me. So I just wanted to help Harry do that. I was stupid.”

“I kind of get what you mean,” Louis allowed. “So, then what happened?”

Niall looked even more stricken, pulling at the duvet beneath him agitatedly.

“Niall? What happened?” Louis asked, trying to toe the line between firm and gentle.

“Nick came back with three drinks back, he put them all on the table, and pulled Harry back into his lap and -“ Niall paused. “Shit, this was my fault, I fucked up. I should have just stopped him.”

Louis’ heartbeat sped up. “You really need to tell me what happened, Niall. But, for what it’s worth, I really don’t believe that the way last night ended up - “ Louis gestured at the phone still lying in Niall’s lap, indicating the video that sat inside it. “ _That_ was not your fault - unless you were in that room. Which - were you?” Louis checked.

Niall quickly shook his head. “No, I promise.”

“Then, why was it your fault? Carry on. Tell me what happened.” Louis urged.

“He said no,” Niall muttered, and then looked up at Louis again, his eyes now brimming with unshed tears that made Louis’ own eyes widen in response. He wanted to go and comfort Niall, but didn’t know if that would be the right thing to do. “Harry said _no_ ,” Niall repeated louder. “He hadn’t said a word since I went out there, and the first and _only_ thing he said was the word ‘no’ when Nick tried to give him more to drink.”

Louis’ heart sunk, and he cursed his vivid imagination even more for the way he was still seeing everything Niall was describing as if it were happening right in front of him, there and then.

“Harry told Nick no, and sort of tried to push the glass away. I know the drink spilled a little bit and Nick sort of moaned about it being a waste. He started saying all these things to Harry about how, like, he just needed to unwind or something? Like, he needed to relax. I don’t really remember,” Niall spoke quickly, sounding frustrated, with himself and with what had happened.

“So what did you do?” Louis interjected before Niall could get too lost inside his head.

Niall stopped talking immediately, pressed his lips together in a tight line.

“Like I said, I kind of just trusted what Nick had been saying,” Niall explained. “So I didn’t step in to intervene straight away. But then Liam picked up one of the other full glasses of drink and kind of shifted up closer to Harry. He basically just held the glass up to Harry’s lips while Nick literally forced his mouth open, like, grabbed his jaw and - “ he paused, collecting himself, “ - and you know, I just thought, ‘okay, this is getting a bit far now’.”

“A _bit_ far?” Louis interjected, aghast. “Fucking hell, Niall!”

“Louis!” Niall admonished. “I know, okay? I _know_. And I’m not proud of any of this.”

Louis nodded once to show that he wouldn’t interrupt again.

“So I said, ‘look, if he doesn’t want to drink any more, you really shouldn’t be forcing him to.’ Like, I was trying to keep the peace, and I still thought they were doing this because Harry had just been having a bad night so I didn’t want to make him feel even worse, or anything. But even while I was saying that, Liam was just carrying on and pouring the drink down Harry’s throat, like it was nothing. So I kind of shouted at them to pack it in, ‘stop, just stop. He’s clearly had enough’, I kept on saying, trying to make them pay attention, but neither of them were listening, too focused in on Harry,” Niall sounded truly distraught as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

Louis didn’t feel much better listening to them.

“They didn’t react to anything I was saying until that glass was empty, and when Liam put it back down on the table, he stood up and sort of gestured for me to go with him. But I didn’t want to, I suddenly just did not want to leave Harry on his own. So I was trying to get Harry to come with me, and it was scary, Louis, it was like he wasn’t even properly there, I don’t know. Like, I was looking into his eyes, and he was looking back, but it was like he wasn’t seeing me. And it really freaked me out. I was _scared_.”

What Niall was describing sounded like the exact same way Harry had appeared in the video, looking into the camera but not seeing anything.

“I asked him to come with me, and when that didn’t work, I reached out for him and tried to kind of pull him up from Nick’s lap, but when I did that he sort of… whined, I guess, is the only word I can think of, and held on tighter to Nick to stop me. So, then, Liam began to guide me away from them, and Nick was saying that Harry clearly just wanted to stay with him. I didn’t really have any choice. Like, if that was what Harry wanted, I just really wanted Harry to be happy, honestly,” Niall met Louis’ eyes again, the pain in them evident. “So I left him.”

Louis felt his own eyes well up with tears, honestly he could feel Niall’s pain; he probably wouldn’t have known what to do in that situation, either - besides punching Nick in the face, probably, which, might have worked actually - and he could definitely feel Harry’s pain as well, knowing how the night had eventually turned out for him. Louis knew he was mere seconds away from shedding tears, and he really didn’t want Niall to see him cry.

He nodded a few times quickly, trying to compose himself, and approached the bed, Niall watching him with curious tearful eyes.

Louis bent to pick up his phone from Niall’s lap, and quickly pulled Niall into a hug just to reassure him that things were relatively alright - that Louis wasn’t pissed off with Niall, at least. Niall hugged Louis back gratefully and when Louis pulled back, a few tears had spilled down Niall’s cheeks.

Louis smiled sadly as he backed away. “I’ll call you, okay? There’s a few things I need to do,” Louis explained, just wanting to get out of that room. He paused. “It wasn’t your fault, Niall, never your fault, okay?” Louis tried to reassure him and Niall nodded, looking back at Louis, stricken.

The last look Louis got of Niall before the bedroom door closed between them was of Niall scrubbing at his red cheeks to wipe away the tears.

When he got out into the hallway, Louis took a quick minute for himself, trying to calm down a little.

He knew he needed to go and fill Zayn in on what had happened. As far as Louis could tell Zayn was one of Harry’s closest friends - if not his actual closest friend - on campus, and Zayn was bound to be worried about him, and he deserved to know. And maybe Zayn would know where Harry could be, and might have more luck in getting some sort of answer out of him? Hopefully, anyway. But on the flip side, it was Zayn’s boyfriend who had played a big part in what actually had happened to Harry, and while that made it even more important that Zayn knew about it - and Louis was all for justice - he didn’t really fancy wading his way into the middle of that relationship and potentially tearing it apart, even though it really needed to be done.

Louis took a deep breath, and sent out another message to Harry, not caring about sounding desperate, just wanting to hear back from him, _needing_ to hear something from him.

Once that was done, he made his way back down the hall in the direction of Harry’s rooms. He knocked on Harry’s door again on his way past to Zayn’s, just in case, pushing it open after a moment where there was no reply, and seeing that the room was still completely empty.

He couldn’t resist dropping into Harry’s room, just taking a moment to look around; he knew it was a little bit creepy, but it was the closest he had been able to get to the boy since before any of this started, and he had no idea what sort of Harry he would be faced with when he made a reappearance, didn’t even know how long it would be until Harry made that reappearance.

Louis just prayed that he was somewhere safe.

Louis found himself examining Harry’s corkboard, and all of the photographs attached, depicting Harry in various stages of his life, all smiling out at him, eyes bright and dimples popped in his cheeks. He was lost in a photo of Harry sandwiched between two women who were clearly related to Harry, when Louis’ phone buzzed in his hand, causing Louis to jump embarrassingly. His eyes flashed down to the device quicker than he would have thought possible and his heart simultaneously froze and beat ten times harder than it ever had done, when he saw ‘Baker Boy’ written on his screen.

He forced himself to breathe normally, unlocking his phone to read the message.

**Staying at a friend's.**

Louis’ heart lifted at Harry’s message, but he bit his lip, a little unsure, as he quickly tapped out a reply.

_Going to need more than that, love. Just so I know it’s really you and that you’re safe, yeah? I’m about to go and talk to Zayn, so I can let him know as well._

Harry’s reply came through after a few seconds of pacing.

**Idk. You call me baker boy. Don’t know what else to tell you. I’m at my friend Ed’s, my boss? Zayn knows him as well.**

_Thanks, lovely. I’m so sorry for everything_ , Louis typed out, eyes filling with tears again, although these tears were partly from relief. _I’ll talk to you soon, okay, babe? xxxxx_

Louis slipped out of Harry’s room to go and talk to Zayn, his chest feeling a little bit lighter.

It was the middle of the afternoon so he knew he didn’t need to worry about waking Zayn up, but he felt incredibly nervous about what he was about to do. At least he now had a solid location to give Zayn now, and not ‘I don’t even know where he is, but hey, hopefully he’s safe.’

He hoped that Zayn would be somewhat understanding, and maybe even that Zayn would be able to keep a clearer head than Louis himself was able to do, and would know what the best thing to do was.

He moved along one door and braced himself before raising his fist and knocking.

The door opened after a few seconds and Zayn stood in the doorway. He looked a little taken aback to see Louis stood on the other side of the door.

“Louis, mate, you alright?” Zayn asked, appearing a little weary, but a quick examination of Zayn’s face told Louis that Zayn maybe didn’t know that Harry was even missing.

Louis took a deep breath, wondering how honest to be. “Not really, mate, no,” Louis settled on. “I need to talk to you about something. Do you mind if I come in?”

Zayn’s eyes clouded with concern, his brow furrowing, and he stepped aside to let Louis enter his room.

Louis had never stepped foot inside Zayn’s bedroom before, but Harry had described it to him in the past, and he’d done a very good job of it. Zayn’s room was covered - absolutely covered - in artwork, art supplies, art books. There were paintings hanging on the wall, a pile of sketchbooks piled on his desk, paint pots stacked underneath the desk. The window was cracked open but the room still smelled strongly of a mixture of paint and cigarette smoke, somehow the smell wasn’t unpleasant, though.

“Do you want a drink? Cup of tea, or anything?” Zayn enquired and Louis turned to face him. He was still stood by the door, looking a little lost.

“No, I’m okay, thank you,” Louis replied, fiddling with the hem of his shirt self consciously.

“Right,” Zayn said slowly, looking at Louis curiously. “So, what’s up?”

Louis took in a deep breath. “Have you heard from Harry this morning?” he decided to just go for it.

Zayn hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t think so, mate, hang on.” He moved across the room and grabbed his phone from where it lay on his bedside table. He glanced at the screen. “No, I haven’t. Why?”

He looked up and met Louis’ eyes and Louis considered how to go on.

“Have you checked your emails this morning?” he questioned.

Zayn frowned. “My emails? No. I never check them, really. Why? What’s up?”

“I would suggest, maybe, that you don’t check your emails today,” Louis urged. “Something’s happened to Harry.”

“What’s happened?” Zayn asked, eyes widening. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know that he’s, like, okay,” Louis said, wincing. He decided that honesty was the best policy. “But he’s safe, at least. He’s gone back to his friend, Ed’s? Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” Zayn answered. “But what’s happened to him?”

“That’s kind of a big question,” Louis admitted. “I don’t really even know where to begin.”

Zayn frowned, moving to sit down in his desk chair and gesturing for Louis to sit opposite him on the bed.

“You said he’s safe now?” Zayn clarified.

“Yeah, he’s safe, he’s staying at Ed’s,” Louis repeated, perching on the edge of the bed. “He texted me about five minutes ago to let me know that, just before I knocked on your door.”

“Okay,” Zayn said slowly, “so why were you concerned that he wouldn’t be safe?”

Louis sighed, considering his next words carefully. “You know Nick Grimshaw, don’t you?”

“It’s more a case of I know of him, to be honest. He lives with Li, but I’ve never really spoken to him,” Zayn said, the frown ever present on his face. “Why are you asking?”

“Because Nick - “ Louis paused. “He hurt Harry.”

Louis began to tell the whole story, of how Nick had felt like he needed to pay Harry back for something that Harry really hadn’t even meant to do in the first place, of how Harry had started getting closer to Nick over the past few weeks and he explained that while Louis had been wary of that blossoming friendship he really had just wanted Harry to be happy. He’d always reasoned that as long as Harry wasn’t being forced into anything, and it was something that Harry wanted willingly, then that was okay with Louis. As he was talking, he realised that this was very similar to what Niall had been saying about the night before, how he had only wanted to make Harry happy, and it made a small smile play on Louis’ lips as he realised just how much people really did care about Harry. He hoped that those close friendships Harry had formed would mean that between them all, they could help Harry fully recover from all of this.

When he reached the events of the night before, he had to pause again, trying to work out the best way to word everything, knowing full well that what he was about to say was going to effect Zayn more close to home than he would probably have realised.

As Louis spoke, he watched Zayn’s reactions carefully, but besides a tightening in his jaw, his eyes getting a little harder, he didn’t openly react. When he’d finished explaining how Liam had bundled him into a taxi and he had come back here, Zayn let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis said, keeping his voice soft. He didn’t really know Zayn very well at all, so he didn’t know what his anger levels were like, or what he was capable of when angry, or anything, really.

But Zayn shook his head harshly, cutting Louis off. “No, don’t be sorry, please. Thank you for telling me, really.”

Louis nodded, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

Zayn suddenly rose from his chair and Louis’ head snapped up, following his movements carefully. Zayn walked to the door and Louis made to follow him, but Zayn turned back before he left.

“It’s alright,” he said, “I’m just going to go and get a cup of tea. Give me a minute to think, yeah?”

Louis nodded hesitantly, “Course.”

“Thanks, mate.”

And then Zayn was gone, and Louis was left alone with his thoughts. He decided to type out another message to Harry while he had a spare minute, _Thinking of you, love. Let me know if you want to talk. xx_

He pressed send just as the bedroom door opened again and Zayn re-emerged, a steaming mug in his hand, and this time with Niall in tow, looking sheepish.

“Found this one in the kitchen,” Zayn said, jabbing a finger back at Niall. “He asked if I was alright, turns out he knows everything that happened to Harry,” Zayn explained as he moved to sit back in the desk chair again, Niall hovering awkwardly over by the door.

Louis didn’t know how much Niall had managed to tell Zayn so he just nodded a little in response.

Zayn took a long sip of his tea, regarding Louis over the rim of the mug.

“I think all of us here have the same main priority at the moment,” Zayn said when he lowered the mug. “Which is, obviously, making sure that Harry is at least physically okay, and won’t be damaged long term.”

Louis and Niall both nodded in sync, that was really all Louis cared about at that moment.

“So we all need to make sure we’re letting Harry know that he is cared about, that we are all going to be here for him whenever he feels like coming back here, and that we don’t think any differently of him because of any of this, okay?” Zayn spoke with authority, as though he’d been mulling this over while he’d been gone.

“Of course,” Louis agreed. “We all have his number so just send him little texts every now and then, it’s his choice if he wants to reply to them, but as long as they’re getting read, we’re doing a good job.”

Zayn nodded in agreement, eyes flicking up to Niall, who was still looking decidedly more awkward than the other two in the room. Niall nodded quickly when their eyes met, though, showing that he was on board with their plans.

“Niall, mate,” Zayn spoke, and Niall’s eyes widened. “Neither of us are blaming you for anything that happened.”

Louis let go of a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He had deliberately left out Niall’s involvement in the night before, but apparently Niall had decided to tell Zayn anyway.

“We really don’t,” Louis agreed. “There was no way you could have known what those fuckers were planning, and we know how close you are to Harry and how much you care about him.”

Niall seemed to relax a little bit. “I just feel so guilty, I feel like I was the one person who could have saved him.”

“You can still save him, now,” Louis said. “Just text him the same as we’re going to do. Maybe let him know you’re sorry, just in case, but I really doubt he’s going to be blaming you, either.”

Niall nodded, appearing placated. “I really do care about him, he’s such a genuinely good lad.”

“I know,” Zayn agreed. “He absolutely doesn’t deserve any of this shit that’s happened to him.” His voice had turned a little harsh, anger clouding the syllables, but he stopped speaking and took another sip of his tea, composing himself. “Yeah, he is a great guy.”

“What are you going to do about Liam?” Louis asked carefully.

“Have a very long conversation with him,” Zayn answered simply. “See where we go from there. But I know for a fact that Harry didn’t do anything to deserve that sort of treatment so I don’t know how we can recover, to be honest.”

“Yeah, I think I can say the same for me and Nick,” Louis huffed a laugh. “There isn’t really any going back from that.”

Zayn shook his head in sympathy, draining his mug of tea and putting it down on his desk behind him.

“I might send Liam a quick text now, just let him know I’m on my way over to his,” Zayn said, picking his phone up and clicking it on.

“Is it okay if I come along with you?” Louis asked. “I’ve got a whole load of my stuff still at his place, in Nick’s room, and I really don’t think it needs to stay there without me.”

“You can if you want, mate, or I can just grab the stuff for you and bring it back. Where are you staying?” Zayn asked.

“I don’t actually know, I’ve just been crashing in Niall’s room but I don’t think that’s really a long term solution, is it?” Louis said, glancing up at Niall.

“Well, it is Christmas soon,” Niall said, “and I’m going back to Ireland for the holidays so you’re welcome to stay there until I come back, but I assume you’re going back home then anyway?”

“I was planning to, yeah. Thanks, though, I’ll bear that in mind,” Louis said gratefully.

“No problem,” Niall replied, seemingly happy that he could be of some help.

Zayn’s phone beeped and all three boys turned their attention to it instantly, somehow all knowing that they were hoping for a message from Harry.

“It’s Liam,” Zayn said quickly, tapping away on his phone. “Says to come over whenever, so I think I might just head off now and get it over with. You want to come or not, Louis? I don’t mind either way.”

“I mean, if you’re sure you’d be okay grabbing my stuff, I’d be very grateful, mate,” Louis said, just wanting to avoid as much contact with Nick Grimshaw as he possibly could. “It’s mainly just clothes which are stuffed in the bottom drawer in the bedroom, probably a few CDs and shit laying around but I’m not too fussed about that. Oh, and take my key back with you as well? I won’t be needing that any more.”

“Yeah, no problem at all, honestly,” Zayn said.

They all left Zayn’s room and headed to Niall’s so Louis could give Zayn the key.

“Thank you so much,” Louis said. “You’re a good guy.”

“So are you, mate,” Zayn said. “Wish me luck, yeah?”

“Good luck,” Louis and Niall chorused and with a small smile and a quick wave, Zayn was gone.

Louis was glad to find that he was suddenly surrounded by such supportive people, who seemed to genuinely care. It was refreshing, and he felt as though he could get used to this little friendship unit.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> WARNINGS: mentioned/implied rape, confrontation
> 
> ***

Harry stood shivering under the steady stream of water despite the heated temperature inside the shower.

This was his third shower of the day and he had also had a long bath when he’d first got up in the morning before heading to work, but he still didn’t feel fully clean; didn’t know if he ever truly would.

He poured a large amount of shower gel onto his hand and rubbed it over his torso, running from the top of his chest to his hips, watching intently as the liquid spread across his skin.

He stepped out from under the stream of water to pour a little more of the gel over his hands and then added that to his torso as well. He massaged the soap firmly into his skin, revelling in the strong press of his hands. The feeling helped Harry to assure himself that he was getting clean; that he was doing something right.

However when Harry removed his hands from his skin, and looked down at himself, all he could see were the crude words that had been scrawled across his flesh. He could feel the dried ink on his skin, still itching at his body, and he scratched at his stomach frustratedly, trying to erase the marks completely.

He grabbed hold of the loofah Ed had bought for him, from where it hung on its special place on the wall inside the shower; just for Harry. He poured more shower gel onto it and began scrubbing it harshly across his skin.

By the time he was at least a little bit satisfied, his stomach had turned slightly pink from the abrasions, the skin burning even though he was no longer under the hot stream of water. He ran his fingers over his stomach, slipping easily through the wet skin. He stepped back under the water and let the soap wash away down the drain, tried to picture that the words were disappearing along with it, that the entire experience would just be flushed along with it so Harry could feel truly clean again.

He took care to wash his backside and his groin as well, repeating the same process of lathering the shower gel up excessively, and then forcing himself to envision everything rolling off of him and pouring down the drain at his feet. It was difficult but it was something Ed had advised him to do, and he trusted Ed’s judgement; probably trusted Ed more than he trusted anyone else in his life at that moment, so he tried his best.

He washed his hair out as well, and then stood still under the stream of water. His mind continually drifted back to that night but every time it did he forced himself to switch off, to think about anything other than that.

When Harry stepped out of the shower, he wrapped his body up in one of Ed’s big fluffy towels - also bought especially for Harry - and wrapped another around his hair like a turban. He padded over to the mirror and brushed his teeth, avoiding eye contact with himself as he did so, holding the towel on his head in place as he rinsed and spat in the sink. He put his toothbrush back in the holder, smiling slightly at the sight of it nestled in against Ed’s, like a little family unit.

He quietly eased the bathroom door open, peering up and down the dark hallway to make sure he was safe to head through to the kitchen, where the washing machine had hopefully finished cleaning his clothes.

He tiptoed down the hall, careful not to wake Ed, who was soundly sleeping in his bedroom, hopefully unaware of Harry’s nighttime escapade. When he reached the kitchen he let out a small sigh of relief when he saw that the washing machine had indeed finished its cycle. He quickly pulled his clothes out and carried them through to the living room where he hung them over the radiator to dry.

He slipped his hand under the duvet Ed had laid out on the sofa for him and felt around for his phone, eventually locating it underneath the pillows piled at the end. He had mainly been using his phone as a watch for the past week so he wasn’t surprised to see that the many notifications on his phone had continued to steadily build up, to the point where he was feeling more than a little anxious about actually unlocking his phone again, too scared of what everyone was going to be saying.

The screen on his phone informed him that it was 2:45am, and it was as though just looking at the time made Harry aware of how sleepy he actually was. He had been trying to fight sleep as much as he could, scared of what his dreams would bring, when he couldn’t actively turn off the parts of his mind he wanted to avoid. He was also more than a little scared of what else might happen to him in reality - but he remembered to quickly force any dark thoughts out of his head. He stuck his phone back under the pillows and stood up, dropping the towel from his body and quickly pulling on a pair of boxers that once again had also been bought for him from Ed - he really needed to think of a way to pay Ed back for all he had done for him. Harry was sure he hadn’t done anything to deserve such kind treatment.

He pulled his hair free from the towel turban on his head and halfheartedly shook his hair out, brushing through it a few times before tying it up into a makeshift bun on the top of his head.

He checked that the radiator was actually on - which was something he had neglected to do a few nights ago and paid the price for the next morning - before heading back to his sofa bed and slipping underneath the duvet and pulling it tight around his body, giving him the illusion of protection, of comfort.

Harry lay on his back staring unseeingly up at the ceiling, as he tried to settle his thoughts enough to allow himself to drift into sleep.

Inevitably his thoughts began to slip into a dangerous territory, images of Nick and that stranger and that strange bedroom coming unbidden into his mind. At times like this it was like Harry could actually feel the memories, as opposed to just visualising them in his head. He could feel the stinging slaps landing on his skin, could feel the ties digging into his wrists and ankles as he moved, could hear Nick’s voice speaking right into his ear.

_“Smile, baby.”_

He shivered violently and squeezed his eyes tight shut, as though that would help block the images out.

He needed to wake up in - he pulled his phone back out from under the pillow to check what the time was - four hours and maybe eat some breakfast, maybe wait until Ed gave him a lift into work to have something there. He wasn’t supposed to be working tomorrow, it wasn’t on his regular rota at all, and Ed had even offered to let him take as much time off as he wanted to until he was feeling completely himself again. But Harry had refused to miss work, and the first day he went into the bakery after that night, he had actually found it very therapeutic, his work had successfully managed to take his mind off of everything where nothing else had succeeded to do that. He’d actually ended up working even more than he usually did, his normally busy days completely freed up otherwise because he had stopped going into uni. He hadn’t been back there since before he could remember, he shuddered to think about all of the work he was missing out on but knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he probably had people who could help him catch up if he asked for their help.

He found himself suddenly thinking of Louis. Louis was the only person he had texted since that night, and he wasn’t even sure why he had done that, but he hadn’t regretted it afterwards. Harry really hadn’t known Louis all that long at all, in the grand scheme of things, but somehow he still felt this strong pull to Louis, felt as though they had almost been destined to meet. After all of the chaos surrounding Harry’s university life - he wasn’t even originally supposed to attend the same campus as Louis, let alone be on the same course - it just seemed a little bit like fate that the two of them had come to meet. Harry was a big believer in fate and destiny as it was, and in Harry’s mind Louis was his.

Harry was still cradling his phone in the palm of his hand as his thoughts followed this path, and despite the late - early? - hour, he found himself unlocking his phone for the first time since he’d last texted Louis back. He resolutely ignored all of the other messages and missed calls sitting in his phone and quickly flicked through them until he reached ‘Lou’.

He paused, his thumb hovering over the messages, considering what to do. He figured that even if he didn’t send Louis anything he could at least read over Louis’ messages - surely Louis wouldn’t have anything bad to say? Unless he was angry that Harry had slept with his ex boyfriend? But no, Louis said himself he didn’t care about that. Harry shook his head to make the thoughts buzzing around in his head stop for a second, and in the brief silence he clicked on Lou’s name before he could succeed in talking himself out of it.

It had been a whole week since Harry had texted Louis back, and Louis had sent him 13 new messages since then. Harry flicked through until he reached the oldest, which had been in response to him telling Louis that he was staying at Ed’s, and then he read through them, taking the time to let Louis’ words sink into his skin, imagining that Louis was there with him and saying those words to Harry in person.

_Thanks, lovely. I’m so sorry for everything. I’ll talk to you soon, okay, babe? xxxxx_  
_Thinking of you, love. Let me know if you want to talk. xx_  
R _eally hope you’re okay_  
_I care a lot about you, you know x_  
_Just saying x_  
_Uni isn’t the same without you xxx_  
_Missing you! Hope you’re safe and happy. xx_  
_Hope Ed is treating you right! x_  
_It’s pretty late, so I hope this doesn’t wake you up. Hope you’re sleeping alright, and having sweet dreams. You deserve to be happy, yeah? xxx_  
_Don’t be worrying about anything, okay, babe? Stay strong xxxx_  
_Woke up this morning and you were the first thing on my mind. Hope you’re okay, baker boy.x  
_ _Let me know that you’re alright? Haven’t heard from you in a while x_

And the latest text, which had only been sent a few hours ago, read, _Thinking of popping down to see you in the bakery if you’re still working there? Would that be alright with you or would you rather I kept away? Your call, love. Just missing you a lot. Hope you’re okay. xxxx_

Harry considered the message, tapping his phone absentmindedly as he thought. It wouldn’t be so bad seeing Louis again. In fact, Harry found that he actively wanted to see Louis again. It had been too long since they had met up, or even had any sort of conversation, and Harry knew that nothing that had happened had been because of Louis, it hadn’t been Louis fault, never. So he had no reason for wanting to avoid Louis, apart from the slightly illogical fear in the back of his mind that wherever Louis was Nick was bound to be, which might not have even been the case for all Harry knew. He couldn’t avoid Louis just because of something that might possibly happen, and he knew that.

So with another quick glance at the time, which now read 3:45am - Harry winced as he realised he now had to wake up in only three hours to get to work on time - he clicked into the new message box and hesitantly began to type out a reply.

 **I’m working tomorrow 8 - 4** , he hesitated, wondering whether to leave the message at that or not. He was sure that Louis would take that for the invitation it was, but he didn’t want to be too vague just in case. He didn’t want to be dealing with a case of miscommunications so he added, **would be good to see you** , he paused once more, added a **x** and then deleted it quickly, thumb moving to hover over the x key again. He stabbed his thumb down decisively and then swiftly sent the message off, before he could deliberate for any longer.

He figured that Louis would more than likely be asleep, but at least Louis would see the message when he woke up in the morning, and then the ball was in his court whether he wanted to come down to the bakery and see Harry or not.

Harry slid the phone back underneath his pillow, and pulled the duvet tighter around his body, settling down and letting sleep wash over his tired body.

He might even have fallen asleep with a small smile playing on his lips at the thought of all of Louis’ kind text messages. They were hidden away in the phone underneath his head, but apparently they had also nestled their way somewhere inside his brain, and Harry didn’t mind that form of intrusion quite as much as the ones he had grown used to dealing with.

***

Harry took his phone into the bakery with him the next morning, which is something he hadn’t done for a long time. He much preferred just leaving his phone behind somewhere, so he knew that people couldn’t get in contact with him, and that he was safe. But the thought that he might possibly be seeing Louis later that day spurred him on to keep his phone on his person.

He thanked his past self not even an hour into his shift. He was stored away in the back room icing a large birthday cake; Harry assumed this cake was for a child’s birthday party, the garish colours he was adding to the cake not exactly conducive with an adult gathering. His eyes flicked over to the phone but there were too many notifications on his lock screen to tell who the message was from so he figured he’d just keep his mind focused on the cake in front of him for the time being.

The phone continued to light up and then dull again quickly, so Harry knew he was only getting messages and he really couldn’t be bothered to read through them all so they continued to go ignored, message after message piling up in his phone for a later date.

Just as Harry was starting to put the finishing touches on the cake, though, his phone lit up and remained lit up for longer than usual. He glanced over to the phone and his eyes widened when he saw that Louis was calling him. He looked between the two objects; the cake and the phone; for a few tense seconds, considering what to do, and finally put the piping bag down on the table and grabbed at his phone, sliding it to answer the call just in the nick of time.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice came loud through the tiny phone speaker before Harry could even draw breath to speak. “Oh my god, hey, babe, are you okay?”

“Yeah, good, you?” Harry replied, his throat closing up a little with a sudden rush of emotion.

“God, babe, I’m good. I’m good. So I’m coming to see you today, yeah?” Louis spoke quickly, his words coming out in a rush.

“Are you?” Harry asked.

“Yes?” Louis sounded a little unsure. “At the bakery? You said last night…” he trailed off. “You don’t have to see me if you don’t want to.”

Harry frowned. “No, no, I am sure. Yeah, come down and see me. Please.”

“Of course. I’m already on the bus, actually,” Louis admitted. “If you’d said no just then it would have been a little embarrassing, love.”

Harry snorted a half laugh into the phone. “I’ll see you soon then? I have to get back to work.”

“Yeah, sure, see you very soon. Can’t wait!” Louis chirped.

“Me either,” Harry said quietly, “Bye, Lou.”

He clicked the end call button before he could hear Louis’ response, and quickly moved to the sink to wash his hands before continuing with his icing project, a funny feeling in his chest that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

The thought of Louis walking in through the shop door made Harry all jittery, and his hands wouldn’t quite stop shaking enough to be able to focus on the task at hand. He tried to persevere for a few more minutes but he didn’t want to ruin some poor child’s birthday just because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check, so he eventually gave up. He gave the cake a quick look over, and deemed it acceptable enough, but decided to go and find Ed just to make sure it was up to scratch.

He pushed into the main shop and spotted Ed serving a customer at one of the tables downstairs so he lingered by the doorway into the back room for a few seconds, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, and not wanting to attract too much unwanted attention to himself either.

His eyes travelled the shop, taking in the various customers that were crowded around. It was just coming to the end of the lunchtime rush so while the shop was pretty packed, it was mostly busy with a flurry of people pulling bags on and piling their empty cups and plates together; hugging each other, saying goodbyes to their friends as they made their way out into the street again. Harry was quite content to stand and people watch for a few minutes, wondering where these people were going off to, wondering if they were having a good day.

Harry found that his eyes were drawn to the shop door every time the little bell jingled above it as someone entered, his heart lurching up into his throat each and every time, imagining that Louis would be the next person to trigger the bell. It was because of this eagerness to see Louis walking in that Harry was the first person to see _his_ arrival.

Ed had just crossed in front of him, a hand on Harry’s elbow to capture his attention. “Harry!” he sounded surprised to see him. “Is everything okay?" But before Ed had even finished speaking, the bell above the door sounded out again and Harry’s eyes immediately snapped to the source of the sound, heart lurching again - and then seeming to stop completely when his eyes fell on the two people entering the shop.

Nick came in first, and Harry instantly shrank in on himself a little, instinctively trying to shield himself from view behind Ed’s body. Harry stood as still as he could, eyes wide in shock, as he stared at the door. His mind started screaming at him about how stupid he had been, telling him that Louis had set up some sort of a trap for him and Harry had been dumb enough to fall for it. However illogical it was, his brain was telling him that this was all because Harry had replied to Louis the night before. If he had just remained in his phone-free shell, this would not have happened. This _couldn’t_ be happening! Work was Harry’s safe haven, his little space where he could immerse himself into his work fully and forget about everything that had happened outside of the work place. How could the two worlds collide like that? What had Harry done to deserve this?

“Harry?” Ed was speaking loudly into Harry’s ear and Harry wondered how long Ed had been talking to him while he had been zoned out, lost somewhere dark inside his mind. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Ed jostled Harry’s elbow a little, and Harry blearily allowed his gaze to slip across to Ed’s worried face, eyes still wide. Ed’s own eyes widened when he saw how shocked Harry looked.

“Right, come through here,” Ed started speaking urgently, tightening his grip on Harry’s arm and guiding him into the back room, but before the door could shut safely behind them, another voice called out into the mix.

“Harry! Hey, Harry!”

Harry shrunk in on himself even more, trying to make himself invisible. He couldn’t push himself through that door, that would draw too much attention to him; so he tried to will himself to disappear instead. To just vanish in a puff of smoke. Maybe this was all just a dream? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d dreamed about meeting Nick again, in a similar situation to this one. It must be a dream.

But Ed’s grip tightening even more on Harry’s elbow and a loud gasp sounding in his ear told Harry this this was a little more real than he was hoping for.

“Get out of my bakery!” Ed demanded, sounding angrier than Harry had ever heard him, while simultaneously trying to push Harry through the door into the back room. It was no use, though, as Harry’s feet had completely given up on functioning. He was frozen on the spot, staring wide-eyed at this living nightmare.

“What? Come on, mate!” Nick spoke again, sounding exasperated. “You don’t own the place.”

“Actually I do!” Ed replied, finally letting go of Harry and stalking over to Nick to show him his work badge. “Leave, now.” His voice left no room for argument, but Nick still tried.

“I didn’t even come in here to see Harry!” he protested, and Harry gasped at the sound of his name, drawing even more attention to himself. Nick met Harry's eyes suddenly across the room. “Harry!” Nick said, his voice soft. “I didn’t come in here for you, I promise. I didn’t know - “

“Bullshit,” Ed interrupted, and Nick’s gaze snapped away from Harry - Harry released the breath he’d been holding as he had looked into Nick’s eyes. “You have one minute to leave this property before I call the police.”

“ _That_ is bullshit!” Nick argued. “You can’t throw me out, I haven’t done anything! Harry, please!”

Nick met Harry’s eyes again before Ed moved his body to hide Harry from Nick’s line of view, and vice versa.

“Don’t you dare ask Harry for anything! Don’t dare even talk to him. You need to leave, now!” Ed took another step towards Nick, ushering him out of the shop.

Harry could sense the growing audience of the customers in the bakery; this was so far from a regular occurrence in that place, the biggest drama they’d ever had to deal with in there was probably when they’d sold out of almond croissants during the breakfast rush once. The bell above the door continued to ring sporadically every now and again but aside from that, where Harry could hear small murmurings coming from behind him before, now there was a deadly silence, as the customers watched with bated breath to see what was going to happen next. He resented them that; this was a private matter; he knew it was Nick's fault, that he shouldn’t have brought it here in the first place, but they had no right to watch as Harry’s life got even more complicated.

“Just let me buy what I need to buy and then I’ll leave. You have no right to throw me out of here.” Nick spoke evenly, slowly. Harry hated how calm he was, when Harry himself was feeling about as far from calm as it was possible to feel.

“You’ve got about thirty seconds now to find out,” Ed replied. “If you haven’t left of your own accord by then, well, yes, you will be thrown out of here.”

Everything seemed to freeze for a few moments; Harry wasn’t even sure anyone was breathing, and then in the blink of an eye everything snapped into motion, moving in fast forward.

Nick surged forwards, hands outstretched and reaching towards Harry, who hurtled backwards. He collided with the door to the backroom but didn’t hit it with another force to shove it open, so he proceeded to huddle up as small as he could against the door, hiding his face and flinching violently when he felt someone make contact with him.

“Harry, Harry, please,” Nick was speaking urgently, right into Harry’s ear and Harry cringed away, biting back a sob. “Let me talk to you, please, we need to talk.”

Harry was vaguely aware of other voices around him but it was like he and Nick were together at the end of a long tunnel, and the other people were right at the other end, far far away. It was just him and Nick in this tight little bubble, Nick’s hand grasping his shoulder, shaking him slightly, trying to get him to uncover his face, and Harry unable to do anything other than listen to Nick, and feel his touch.  
  
Nick carried on talking, in that same rushed tone. “Come on, it’s not like you didn’t want me. You can’t deny that you want me, we have something. Please, let’s go somewhere where we can talk. Come on, babe, I lo - “

“Alright, alright, that’s enough!” Another very familiar voice cut through the tunnel and Harry's eyes widened. "Hey, back off!"

Harry was just turning to look in the direction the voice had come from when Nick was suddenly pulled away, out from Harry's personal space, amidst another bout of shouting that Harry couldn't make out the words to. With no more warning than that Harry himself was being pulled roughly by the arm, and he started struggling against the grip as he was dragged through the watching crowd of people. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***
> 
> I feel like this chapter isn't the best. I really struggled to write this one, to be honest. Not sure why. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of rape, confrontation.
> 
> ***

Louis had only one goal in mind and that goal was to get Harry as far away from Nick as he possibly could. When Louis had arrived at the bakery just a few short minutes ago, he didn’t know what he’d been expecting to find when he saw Harry for the first time, but it certainly hadn’t been to see Harry cowering against a wall with none other than Nick Grimshaw looming over him, a hand attached to his arm as though it belonged there, as though it had any right to be there at all.

Louis had thought quickly and rushed to Harry’s side, pulling him as swiftly away from Nick as he could. He managed to get Harry outside but it was no easy feat considering the way Harry was struggling against him. Louis guessed that Harry wasn’t really in his right mind, and didn’t really know who he was with or what he was doing, so he didn’t take it personally, just held firm until they were stood outside on the street.

He loosened his grip on Harry, pushing him to arm's length so that he could get a look at his face, and Harry could see who was holding him. Harry met Louis’ eyes and his body instantly seemed to sag in Louis’ arms. He was shaking - Louis could actually feel the trembles running through his body.  
  
Louis was a little out of his depth, he didn’t know how to handle this situation at all. So he did the only thing he could think to do, which was to pull Harry in closer to his body, attempting to soothe him.

His touch seemed to have the opposite effect, however, and Harry began struggling in his arms again, a hand pushing firmly at Louis’ shoulder until he had no option but to let him go.

“You set me up!” Harry accused, gaze burning as he took a few steps back until Louis couldn’t reach for him any more.

Louis felt his jaw drop in utter shock, and he stood stunned for a few seconds before he managed to find his voice. “How could you even _think_  that?” he asked in genuine confusion. “I just saved you!”

But Harry was shaking his head before Louis could even finish his sentence. “It’s not a coincidence that I just so happened to tell you my working hours and then Nick shows up just when you tell me you’re about to. That can not be a coincidence. I’m not stupid.” Harry’s mouth was set in a firm line, and he was still shaking, but his words came out steady and sure.

“It sounds unbelievable, I know, but _yes,_ it was just a coincidence. I had no idea, Harry. I haven’t even talked to Nick in so long!” Louis tried to explain. “Baby, pl - “

“ _No!_ ” Harry cut him off. “Don’t call me that.” He turned on his heel and started walking away.

“Harry, wait!” Louis called after him, following him down the street. “I wouldn’t set you up. I wouldn’t do that to you. You _know_ I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“How do I know that?” Harry yelled suddenly.

The sheer volume of his voice shocked Louis into taking a step back as Harry spun back around to face him.

When he spoke again, his tone was almost conversational even as his eyes blazed with anger. “You know, Nick was just telling me the exact same thing. Feigning innocence, you know? He didn’t know that I would be there. He just wanted to talk. How am I supposed to trust either of you right now?” His voice cracked at the end and he looked away, quickly, breathing hard.

Louis stared back at Harry a little dumbstruck. This was not how he had thought their reunion would go. He hadn’t exactly been expecting for Harry to just fall into his arms but he definitely hadn’t expected him to be so angry. Not at Louis.

He was still struggling to find any suitable words when the sound of running footsteps approached them, coming up from behind Louis. He quickly turned and saw Nick speeding towards them, and on instinct, he moved closer to Harry, trying to shield him.

“Harry!” Nick shouted. “Please let me - “

“No!” Harry yelled, taking a step back. “No, I _can’t_ do this! Just leave me alone.”

“So you’re going to leave with _him?_ ” Nick called, sounding incredulous as he took in the sight of Louis and Harry.

“No, I’m not, I - “ Harry started, but as he spoke, Nick’s gaze hardened and he quickly jumped in to interrupt, moving in closer to the pair.

Harry seemed frozen again, the way he’d appeared in the bakery, and not wanting to push him away, Louis simply stood firm where he was, trying to protect Harry as much as he could. He eyed Nick warily as he leaned in to talk to Harry.

“You know, baby,” Nick began, and Harry flinched at the nickname, “This one here hasn’t really done a very good job at taking care of you so far, has he? I think I’ve done far better, haven’t I? Has Louis ever tried to protect you? Has he done anything to look after you?”

“Let him go - “ Louis tried, chest rising and falling rapidly, but Nick cut him off. 

“You don’t get to speak right now. You’re no fucking better than I am,” Nick snapped at Louis before turning his attention back to Harry, reaching out to touch his arm again, voice impossibly soft. “Harry, was it _me_ who left you on your own with people you didn’t really know when you were practically passed out in a taxi? Or was it Louis?”

Louis’ mouth dropped and he turned to look at Harry. Harry was gazing down steadily at where Nick was touching him, so Louis couldn’t properly see his expression.

Nick continued. “No, it wasn’t Louis who gave you somewhere safe to sleep for the night, when you probably didn’t even know your own name, much less where you were or how you would get yourself home. It was me. And it was me who got you to call someone and keep you safe after our night together, wasn’t it?”

At that, Louis exploded. “It was also you who fucking raped him on _your night_ together!”

Harry’s eyes snapped up to meet Louis’. "Um - " he frowned, but then Nick was turning on Louis, glaring down at him.

“I raped him, did I?” Nick asked calmly, not taking his gaze away from Louis as he spoke.

Harry was trembling, eyes flicking quickly between Louis and Nick.

“Okay, so you think I raped Harry. And what did _you_ do to prevent that happening, Louis?” Nick continued, that deceptively calm tone still in his voice.

"Nick, stop it," Louis gulped, keeping his eyes trained on Nick. He _couldn’t_ look at Harry, couldn’t bring himself to. He was too scared of what he’d see in Harry’s expression. He shook his head minutely at Nick, trying to warn him off, but Nick was having none of it. A small smile played on his lips before he turned back around to face Harry.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he began, and Louis’ heart leapt into his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, it was like his throat had closed up completely. “You can hate me all you like, and that’s fine, but your little friend, here, knew _all_ about everything, long before it happened. And he still did _nothing_ to stop it. Just bear that in mind before you run along home with him, okay?”

Louis finally managed to look over to Harry, and what he saw almost broke his heart. It was like Harry had gone completely blank, his eyes were wide but none of the sparkle that Louis had grown accustomed to seeing in them was there any more; it had been snuffed out by Nick’s cruelty, and by Louis’ cowardice. They had created some sort of a sick team together. Nick’s plan from the start had been to break this poor boy down, and one look at him now confirmed that apparently they had succeeded.

“Harry - “ Louis spoke, voice cracking.

“No,” Harry cut him off, voice barely above a whisper, as he took a shaky step back. “No. Don’t.”

Louis could do nothing but watch as the shell of Harry Styles continued to haltingly take a few steps back, eyes darting over the faces before him, disbelief, shock, and heartbreak written all over his face, before he turned and fled, quickly getting swallowed up in the mass of people around, and disappearing from Louis' view.

“You complete fucking bastard!” Louis yelled at Nick when he had given up on trying to spot Harry in the crowd.

Nick gazed levelly back at Louis, face impassive. “I didn’t do anything there except tell Harry the truth. He deserves to know, don’t you think?”

Louis opened his mouth to interrupt but Nick spoke quicker.

“If he’s going to hate me for something I did - which, just so you know, I didn’t rape him so you can stop spreading that lie - “

“I saw the video!” Louis burst out. “I watched the fucking video, Nick. I saw you!”

“You saw me?” Nick asked, and Louis nodded, stubbornly. “You saw my face?”

Louis gaped at Nick. “You - what - I - “

“Yeah, you were wrong, Louis,” Nick said tone firm. “Telling Harry that I raped him was a lie, and he knew it was a lie. What I told him about _you,_ was nothing but the truth. So let Harry hate you for it. Man up and take the consequences. For once.”

“He doesn’t hate me. I’ll explain,” Louis said, mind racing over what he’d just discovered. He ignored Nick’s resulting scoff in favour of asking. “So the video?”

“I’m not in the video, Louis. I filmed it, yes, and I played a big part in it. But correct me if I’m wrong, so did your good mate, Niall, and so did _you._ I’m admitting to my part, and you should do the same.”

“Don’t try and get all self righteous,” Louis snapped. 

“I’m not,” Nick spoke, his voice still maddeningly calm; it was like he was patronizing Louis with every word he spoke, and Louis could feel his temper rising, anger spiking his veins. Nick smirked as he noticed Louis’ growing fury. “What are you going to do now, Louis? Are you going to hit me again?” He spread his arms wide, an invitation, and then quickly grabbed Louis’ wrists in one hand, moving in close to breathe into his ear, “There’s more where that video came from, if you want to carry on pushing me.” And then he released Louis with a quick shove backwards, sending Louis stumbling back a few paces.  
  
“What was that? Why are you doing this now?” Louis demanded. “You got what you wanted. You’ve broken him. _Congratulations_. Now fucking leave him alone.”

“You still think this is all about Harry?” Nick asked. “Oh, Louis, you abandoned me. We’ve been through everything together, and you just gave that up. For what? For _him?_ ”

Louis’ heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of Nick’s words.

“So, you’re pissed at me, now? Okay, great, then come for me. But leave Harry out of it, he’s got nothing to do with that,” Louis said, voice rising.

“But I would be coming for you, wouldn’t I?” Nick smirked. “Louis, who do you think Harry’s going to believe out of the two of us? You lied to him for weeks, and you lied to him just then. I’ve never _lied_ to him, Lou. Not once.”

“Don’t - “ Louis started, but Nick simply patted him on the arm, a condescending smile playing on his lips.

“Have a good day, love, go make sure Harry’s alright,” he said, and then he was gone, pushing through the crowds still milling around and quickly disappearing amongst them the same way Harry had done.

Louis stared at the space he’d disappeared for a long time.

***

After the confrontation outside the bakery, Louis had gone back to Niall’s room and then lay comatose for days on end, thankful that it was Christmas break so he had no commitments, and no responsibilities; he could just wallow.

He’d ignored Niall’s constant invitations to various parties happening around campus, but had checked his phone obsessively for any sort of contact from Harry. He knew he would jump at the chance to go and see him again, but he didn’t want to be the one to initiate contact. He knew it would be fairer to let Harry come to him first, if he wanted to.

It was early afternoon, and the sun was streaming in through Niall’s bedroom window, when Niall came bustling into the room. 

“I just saw Harry,” he burst out, as soon as the door was shut behind him, and Louis snapped his head back to see Niall leaning against the closed door, breathing hard and looking distraught. “I just saw Harry, and he barely even looked at me!”

“He’s back?” Louis questioned, sitting up, and absentmindedly glancing at his phone as though he could possibly have missed a text from him.

“Well, he’s here, he just walked straight past me. He hates me, Louis!” Niall whined.

Louis wasn’t really listening to Niall, but he responded all the same. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. Maybe he didn’t even notice you.” He swung his legs over the side of the floor mattress he had been spending his life on for the past few days, and stood up, picking up his phone at the last minute.

“He did notice me, Louis! I said hello. He hates me!” Niall repeated. 

Louis pulled him into a quick hug. “Don’t worry, Nialler. I’m going to go and try to speak to him. I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. Why would he?”   
  
“Good luck,” Niall muttered, but Louis barely even heard him as he was already taking off down the corridor in the direction of Harry’s room.

As Louis rounded the corner,  Zayn was just leaving Harry’s room, shutting the door quietly behind him. When he noticed Louis, he waved a hand in greeting, and Louis caught up with him quickly. 

“Hey, mate, how you doing?” Zayn asked when Louis was within earshot.

Louis didn’t think to consider a truthftul answer. “I’m good, yeah is Harry okay?”

Zayn huffed out a laugh. “I’m good too, thank you for asking. Harry’s- alright, think he’s a bit tired, though. He's not really acting himself. It's just good to see him though, to be honest. I’m going to check up on him whenever I can, and I’ll keep you updated,” Zayn promised.

“Can I go in and see him?” Louis asked, he wasn’t sure why he was asking, but this situation almost felt like the first time he had met Zayn, when he’d acted as though he had any sort of claim over Harry for no reason. It was a strange echo, standing outside Harry’s door like this.

“Maybe leave it for a bit, yeah? I’ll text you, or whatever, when he’s up, if you like?”

“Yeah, please. Thanks, man. What are you going to do now?” Louis questioned.

“Just going to get on with packing, actually. Heading back home at the weekend for Christmas,” Zayn said, moving across to his own bedroom door.

“Oh, are you?” Louis asked. 

“I am,” Zayn said. “What are your plans for Christmas?” he asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Louis replied, honestly. Truthfully, he hadn’t even thought about going home, had been too caught up in the drama that his life had become. “Probably will go home for a little while, too, yeah. I guess.”

“Don’t sound so sure, man,” Zayn laughed, pushing his door open. “Well, consider this an invitation to stay in my room while I’m not here, if you want it. I know you can’t exactly go back to your flat right now.”

Louis looked at Zayn, touched. It was one thing for Niall to let Louis crash on his floor, they had been good friends since the first day they met practically, but Zayn was still near enough a stranger, aside from their mutual connection of Harry. “Thank you, Zayn. Really. I might take you up on that. I’ll let you know, though, before I just let myself in.”

“It’s fine, do whatever,” Zayn assured him. “I’d best get on, though. I’ll text you later when I’ve seen Harry, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Good luck,” Louis smiled, and with a quick nod, Zayn shut the door behind him.

Louis loitered outside Harry’s door for a few minutes more, considering knocking and trying his chances, but he ultimately decided against it, remembering his promise to himself to wait for Harry to approach him first.   
  
He walked back down the hallway, feeling a little happier than he had been lately. At least Harry was back home. At least he was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I'm really sorry that this story ended so abruptly. I actually wrote this for nanowrimo last year and reached the 50k goal and then stopped writing, so I started uploading this fic while still writing, and inevitably I lost interest in it a little bit, which isn't good!  
> I couldn't force myself to carry on writing, so I tried to get it to a point where it wouldn't matter quite so much if it just ended, and I think I managed to do that.  
> There are still some little plot points planned out, and some even written out, but I just don't have the motivation anymore to turn that into a whole ending to this fic, so this is what we have instead.  
> Possibly, I will work on a sequel or something to this in the future, but I can't promise anything, and it more than likely won't be any time soon, as I have other story ideas I want to work on instead which I'm more excited about than this fic.
> 
> Thank you so much to the people who commented on this story either on here or on twitter, you were the reason I carried on uploading and you were really good at motivating me and inspiring me so thank you very very much for your support!


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